After Everything I've Done
by Kalista77
Summary: Tony's just trying to convince Pepper that he's fine. Because he is. Really. But when he meets Loki Silver- a bored, enigmatic, self-proclaimed psychopath- he finds himself trapped in the trickster's web and sucked into his world. Tony is convinced that Loki has a heart. Loki's not so sure.


" **After everything I've done, how can you still love me?"**

Tony watched helplessly as Loki moved towards the door. "Why are you doing this?" he pleaded, hating how helpless he sounded, abhorring the pathetic words as they left his lips. "What did I do?" he whispered, almost fearing the answer.

Loki didn't turn around. "Don't make this about you," he said coldly, and Tony tried not to flinch away from the words. "Not everything in this world revolves around the great Anthony Edward Stark."

Tony tried to stand but found that his legs had no strength, instead sliding down from the chair to his knees on the floor. It was a convenient position, a part of him thought, considering he was about to beg. "Please," he tried, remembering how Loki had first reacted to that word. "Please don't go." Pride was a thing long forgotten- all that mattered right now was that Loki needed to turn around. He just had to turn around.

The taller man didn't move- neither towards nor away from Tony. "Stop, Stark. You're only making a fool of yourself."

"Just turn around!" Tony yelled, finally getting his voice back. "Just fucking look at me!"

"Why should I bother?" Loki said first, and then huffed a sigh, as if this entire thing was a massive waste of his time, before turning. He knelt slightly to be eye-level with Tony, so that the inventor could look into his frozen green eyes. "Listen, Stark, it was fun while it lasted, but I've never been a fan of people I could manipulate that easily," Loki told him loftily before standing, turning away again. "Really, you're just pathetic. The sex, at least, was decent."

"No," Tony whispered, horrified by the emptiness he had seen in his lover's eyes. "This isn't you. You wouldn't-"

"The really ironic thing is that I told you," Loki continued mercilessly. "I told you that I was insane. I told you that I was a psychopath. But you didn't listen, did you? Kept thinking you could fix me." His voice wavered for a split second, and he had to pause to steady himself. "I didn't want your help, Stark," he growled, the anger far too tangible, "and I don't need to be fixed. I'm not one of your projects." He started walking again, and this time he made it to the door frame.

"I didn't want to fix you," Tony whispered, no longer on his knees, but now completely fallen down to the floor, reaching out for the man who had just cut him deeper than any blade. "I love you the way you are."

Loki froze, and for a moment, Tony thought that maybe he was going to turn around. Maybe the self-proclaimed psychopath would turn around pull Tony up into his arms, whisper his name and confess that this had all been some kind of test. He thought maybe he would look up into the warm eyes of the man that he loved.

But then Loki grew stiff again. "Then, clearly, you love the man who did nothing but use you, manipulate you, and cared for you less than a child cares for their prized doll. Like I said- pathetic."

Tony was still staring at him from his position on the floor, still reaching out to him, but his eyes were so fogged with tears that he could barely even see the taller man anymore.

Thus, he failed to see how Loki turned just slightly, almost looking over his shoulder. He missed the tears blooming in the green eyes as the raven haired man finished his speech, and he missed how Loki's shoulders sagged as he finally forced himself to leave the room.

All Tony saw was his retreating figure and the door closing behind him; all he could do was put his face down in the carpet and sob.

 **ACT ONE:**

 **The Pledge**

Despite all his reputation, despite how much he was both lauded and reviled for being such a party animal, Tony really didn't like night clubs.

Truth be told, he'd never been a massive fan of them in general. Hot guys and girls weren't exactly in short supply in his world, and the strobe lights tended to give him a headache. Dancing was fun, but not when your personal assistant refused to accompany you, nor when the board of directors of your company liked to insist that you be shadowed by at least two bodyguards at all times, not that he listened. The bodyguards chosen weren't even his type, either. Add that to large, stifling crowds and deafening music, and the only thing left about nightclubs that Tony liked was the presence of large amounts of alcohol. After the tenth drink, everything that irritated him about the places tended to die down, and he could enjoy himself somewhat, which was probably how he ended up with the reputation in the first place.

Tony had never really liked nightclubs, but that mild dislike had turned into downright hatred after Afghanistan. Now, every dark corner was hiding some lackey of the Ten Rings, the black, oppressive atmosphere just reminded him of too many days spent locked in a cave, and the disorienting strobe lights were instead the lights dancing behind his eyes every time they shoved his head under water.

All of a sudden, he couldn't breathe.

"Here's your drink, sir," the pretty little waitress commented, delivering his glass of scotch with a wink.

Tony downed it all in one go. At least his feelings towards the vast quantities of alcohol at places like this hadn't changed. "Thanks, sweetheart," he responded with his trademark smirk.

Unfortunately, the pink-haired girl had other places to be, and she departed with a lingering smile.

Probably just trying to get tips.

Tony removed his own flash of alcohol his jacket pocket and took a swig while looking around the dance floor for something to distract him from bad memories. He wasn't really sure why he was even here.

Oh, right. Pepper had said she was worried about him, so this was his attempt to convince her that he was fine, to be his normal, party-going self before she decided that she needed to have an intervention or something equally distasteful.

His search for someone who looked interesting came up fruitless. Sure, there were several good looking folks, but he didn't want to head back to his mansion yet. Still, he pinned a few of them who looked like they'd be open to some fun in the back of his mind. Unfortunately, not one of them seemed like the sort of person who'd be interested in having an actual conversation that didn't involve someone's tongue down another's throat, so Tony resigned himself to simply drinking away the night.

Once he was drunk, then he'd take home the pretty blonde and her prettier brunette boyfriend, That would be sure to convince Pepper that he was fine.

Tony stood from his table and migrated over to the mostly unoccupied bar, settling down on one of the stools and ordering another scotch. This one, he didn't drink quite so fast, but nursed as he let his eyes wander over the dance floor again. Where was Blondie? If they left before he was drunk, he'd have to find someone else….

"You know, attendance of these clubs is hardly mandatory. If you're really having such a miserable night, you could just go home."

Tony pivoted on his seat to look at the man who'd spoken in the enticing, smooth, English accent.

He was wearing black slacks with a dark green, button down shirt that brought out his intense green eyes. His hair was black and slicked back, a fair bit longer than Tony's. He was slim, but muscular, with legs that just kept going. He looked utterly disinterested in both the nightclub in general and Tony in particular, an impression solidified further by his bored tone.

Tony appraised him with a smirk. "Who says I'm having a miserable night?"

The stranger matched Tony's smirk with one of his own. "Your face, dear. Perhaps you ought to look in a mirror."

"Oh, I have," Tony responded confidently, waggling his eyebrows. "But I will admit that I was bored. There seems to be very little interestingcompany tonight."

"Didn't you bring your own?" he asked with a gesture to Happy in the distance, looking distinctly uncomfortable in the venue.

Tony blinked in surprise. As much as Happy stood out in general, few people were normally able to connect the two of them as being together. "What makes you think he's with me?"

Tall, dark, and beautiful looked at Tony like he was a moron. "And here I thought you were supposed to be a genius, Anthony Stark."

"It's Tony," the inventor immediately corrected.

The stranger smirked but said nothing to that as he took a sip of his very green drink.

"It's generally polite to offer your own name when someone tells you theirs."

"I am not generally known as polite."

Tony couldn't help but laugh a little at that. "Nor am I," he admitted.

There was silence for a beat, but the green-eyed devil broke it. "Loki," he said suddenly. "My name is Loki."

Tony arched an eyebrow. "That's… interesting."

Loki laughed softly, just slightly depreciating. "I suppose you could said it was a family tradition."

"Well, I think it's cool," Tony said on a whim.

Loki looked at him rather oddly for a moment. "You are somewhat strange."

Tony laughed again. "You don't know the half of it, babe." He took another sip of his scotch, surprised that it wasn't gone yet, as he ignored Loki's eye-roll at the nickname.

"So, what were you looking for?"

Tony frowned, uncertain what Loki meant. "When?"

Loki chuckled; it was a very nice sound, Tony noted. "Before I so rudely interrupted you while you stared at the dance floor."

"Oh, right." He paused, and then figured he didn't really care if Loki knew. "I was looking for a prospective couple to take home tonight."

Loki laughed again, louder this time. "You are very bored, are you not?"

Tony blinked. Not the conclusion to which most people jumped when you admitted something like that. The right conclusion, yes, but not the normal one. "Well… yes," he admitted.

Loki nodded like this was entirely normal behavior. Well, it was for Tony, but most people took a lot longer to realize that. He stood suddenly, walking over to Tony- holy shit, he was tall!- and extended his hand. "Dance with me."

It really wasn't a question.

Tony took his hand.

"Jesus, what did your parents feed you growing up?" Tony muttered as they took to the dance floor. It was a slightly slower song, which was a good thing- it had been a while for Tony.

Loki, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, though his grip on Tony's hips tightened just slightly at the mention of his parents, making the shorter man frown slightly. "Food," he responded, whispering the word in Tony's ear.

As his warm breath ghosted over Tony's face, the inventor suddenly remembered why it was that he liked dancing.

Of course, then Loki abruptly pulled away, breaking all contact and moving off a few feet through the crowd.

Tony watched him dance with a surprised but delighted little redhead with an annoyed glare. "Asshole," he muttered in his general direction.

Loki, apparently understanding the general sentiment even if incapable of having heard the word, very gracefully flipped him off.

Tony chuckled and started moving with the music, finding himself a pretty blonde and dancing with her instead.

She was good, Tony had to admit, and soon the expert movements of her hips and passion of her unasked for but expert kisses had him nearly forgetting about Loki entirely.

Right up until a heavy hand landed on Tony's shoulder, and the engineer found himself looking a long ways up into the less than pleased eyes of Blondie's hulk of a boyfriend. Jesus Christ. She had to have to a size kink.

"Get your hands off of her," the giant growled, his grip tightening on Tony while the girl slithered out from behind him with an apologetic shrug to hide behind her boyfriend's arm. She obviously wasn't going to be any help here.

Tony held his hands up in an utterly non-threatening gesture. As though he could have been threatening to this guy in the first place. "I didn't know, okay? No harm done, right?"

The giant just growled, and Tony looked around for Happy. The one time he actually wanted his driver lurking around, and he was nowhere to be found. Of course. Tony had to resist the urge to face palm.

Then, suddenly, a pale hand slapped Tony across the face, and the inventor jerked in shock.

"How could you!" Loki demanded, face awash with rage, but eyes dancing with barely concealed amusement and mischief. "You incorrigible cheat! How dare you put your hands on someone else on our anniversary?"

Tony just stared, but the hulking giant suddenly looked sheepish.

He immediately backed down. "Uh… I'll just leave you two alone then." He turned and departed the dance floor, the blond girl behind him eyeing both Tony and Loki like she was thinking about taking them both home later even as she trailed her "boyfriend" off the dance floor.

Loki relaxed and smirked as soon as they were out of earshot. "You could have played that a bit better," he commented.

Tony rubbed his stinging red cheek. "The slap kind of took me by surprise," he growled. "You could have held back."

Loki's smirk grew. "I did."

Tony glared at him and started to walk off the dance floor, only for Loki's hand to land on his arm.

"Come on now! I got you out of that situation without anyone getting thrown out of the club or smashed into a pulp. Surely that's worth some kind of thanks?" he asked, tilting his head and looking remarkably like a puppy for a moment. A very mischievous puppy with spectacular legs and a really hot accent.

Tony knew, somewhere, on a basic, fundamental level, that this was a bad idea. That didn't stop him from smirking up at the taller man. "What did you have in mind?"

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

"Anthony Edward Stark!"

Tony froze, glancing at Loki who just looked confused at the sound of Pepper's enraged voice. "Save me," he lipped, only half in jest, at the taller man who just arched an eyebrow and continued to look bemused.

"What the hell were you thinking!?" Pepper railed, storming into Tony's Malibu Mansion to find Tony and Loki lying on the carpet in plain view, Tony almost completely naked and Loki wearing both trousers and the t-shirt that somehow had never gotten removed. Other things had been more important, Tony supposed, although now he deeply regretted not having mapped out the other's pale skin more fully. Not that he could really complain, considering when Loki had gone to remove his own t-shirt, the only article of clothing he was still wearing, he had grabbed the man's wrists with a grip of iron. Loki had, surprisingly, not said a word about it.

When the other man had gotten up to put his trousers back on, though, Tony had no idea. The guy was damned sneaky.

Pepper blushed scarlet immediately and very pointedly kept her eyes fixed on the glass wall behind them. "Tony, put some clothes on," she ordered in a quieter, slightly wavering tone.

Tony let his eyes do a cursory sweep of the area. "I'm not sure where they are," he admitted, looking at Loki accusingly. "I actually like that shirt." The dress shirt, obviously, as the t-shirt he was wearing was just black.

Loki rolled his eyes. "Then buy more; you are one of the richest men in the country."

"On the globe, sweetheart," Tony corrected with a smirk, "but I still like that shirt."

Loki huffed a sigh and then reached over Tony to move one of the couch pillows with his long arms. Lo and behold, behind it was Tony's shirt. "There."

Tony stared at him. "How the hell did you remember where it was?"

Loki smirked. "I have a very good memory."

"Tony!" Pepper screeched, evidently fed up with being ignored.

"Yes, dear?" Tony quipped.

Loki snickered and then stood, moving in front of Tony to effectively block him from Pepper's sight. Tony was moderately surprised. Either the guy was more possessive than Tony had assumed, which could cause problems, or he was being moderately chivalrous, which was suspicious in its own right. "My name is Loki Silver," he greeted, extending a hand.

Aside from his hair being slightly less in order than it had been, he really didn't look like he'd been fucking Tony into the ground ten minutes ago. It so wasn't fair.

Pepper accepted the handshake warily. "Pepper Potts." She showed him something that Tony couldn't see. "Can I assume that this is you, then?'

Loki squinted at the picture and then laughed. "Look, Anthony, we made the papers."

Tony grumbled under his breath while pulling his trousers on, "It's Tony." Once they were secured, he walked over to look at what Pepper had in her hand.

It was a newspaper, and on the front page was a grainy picture of two figures on a motorcycle, riding on the sidewalk and basically causing havoc throughout the city. Driving the bike was Loki, a broad grin on his face and hair flowing in the wind, and behind him was Tony, one arm wrapped around Loki's waist, and the other on his shoulder. He was laughing. The headline read, "CEO of Stark Enterprises, Mr. Stark, Causes Mayhem in Malibu" and Tony didn't bother to read the article.

"That is really poor photography," he commented.

Loki nodded in agreement. "It really is, but you can't hardly blame the poor guy. We were going upwards of one hundred miles per hour."

"Tony!" Pepper snapped, furious. "What were you thinking?"

Tony raised his hands and assumed an innocent expression. "I wasn't in control of the bike."

Loki turned to look at him, arching an eyebrow. "You have no understanding of the word loyalty, do you?"

Tony just grinned.

Pepper was still centered in on Tony. "Do you have any idea the kind of trouble you're in? The lawsuits that you've exposed us to?"

Surprisingly, Loki intervened. "Ms. Potts, while I'm sure you only have Anthony's best interests in mind, he was not incorrect. It was I who was driving the bike, and therefore I would be culpable for any injuries. If it is criminal charges that concern you, let me assure you that there is no danger of that."

"And how can you be so certain?" Pepper demanded.

Loki smirked. "I have my ways."

Pepper narrowed her eyes. "You'll have to pardon me if I find that less than comforting."

"I don't, actually," Loki said airily, lying down on the sofa and propping his feet up on the armrest carelessly, "but you are indeed pardoned, seeing as you're only doing your job."

Pepper spluttered angrily before evidently deciding that Loki was more trouble than he was worth and turning to Tony. "Tony, I'll do what I can to damage control this, but…." She paused, looking at him for a long moment. "I thought you were done with this." Her voice was quieter and filled with disappointment.

Tony was momentarily speechless. But only momentarily. "Done with being who I am? Sorry, Pep, that's not likely to happen any time soon."

Her eyes flashed briefly, filling with tears that she wouldn't dream of letting spill. "This isn't who you are," she said firmly, quietly. "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

Tony sighed. "That will be all, Ms. Potts."

She left, turning on her heel and getting in the elevator, not looking back.

Loki sat up slightly on the couch. "She seems rather attached to you," he noted carelessly.

Tony turned, suddenly annoyed with his one night stand. "What were you thinking last night? How drunk were you?"

Loki blinked, reclining again. "Hardly at all." He smirked. "What do you think of me, Stark? You honestly think I would endanger both of our lives like that?"

Tony growled, a part of him unnerved by how utterly sincere Loki sounded, even though they both knew better. "Then why? What makes you do something like that?"

Loki sat up completely, tucking his feet under his knees as he faced Tony, sitting sideways on the couch now. "What made you come with me?" Loki challenged, sounding entirely blase about the entire thing.

"You asked me to come with you. I didn't know what you were planning."

"And yet in the picture, you were laughing," Loki noted, smirking. "Admit it, Stark. You enjoyed it as much as I did, and if it weren't for lesser men, and women, holding you down, you wouldn't feel guilty about it either. Adrenaline is, after all, one of our drugs of choice."

"You're insane," Tony growled.

Loki shrugged. "Maybe." Then he grinned, sharply with too many teeth. "But I'm not wrong."

Tony looked away, uncomfortable. "You should leave now."

Loki didn't argue, getting to his feet without protest, but he paused by Tony's shoulder to whisper in his ear. "You can deny it all you want, Stark, but you know that we're the same."

And then he was gone.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

It was three o'clock in the morning when Tony's phone buzzed with an incoming text, but the inventor wasn't sleeping. He was wide awake in his workshop, working on one of the non-lethal military weapons he was developing to hold up his end of the contracts without breaking the promise he'd made upon his return from Afghanistan.

Don't waste this… don't waste your life, Stark.

The words seemed to echo hollowly in the metal room. Why was it so quiet?

"Jarvis, what happened to my music?"

"It has been over forty-eight hours since the last time you slept, sir. I'm programmed to remove keys, coffee, and music at this point. If it exceeds seventy-two hours, you are to be denied access to your workshop as well."

Tony scowled at the wall before finally checking his phone.

Hel's Paradise, one hour. -Unknown

Tony stared at his phone. What the hell? It buzzed again.

You know you want to, Stark. -Unknown

Okay, not a wrong number then. Tony texted back.

 **Who is this? How did you get my number?** -TS

One hour. -Unknown

Tony put his phone down. He wasn't going to fall for what was probably a juvenile prank at best and a kidnapper's trap at worst, even if he were curious as to how the mystery person got a hold of his private number; it wasn't something that he gave out freely. His phone buzzed again, and Tony really couldn't help himself. Besides, it could be someone important this time!

I promise you won't be bored. -Unknown

He stared at the phone. Then he stared at it some more.

What could it hurt? He wouldn't drive himself, he'd take Happy in case it was a trap, and if it looked shady, he'd just turn around and head right back to his mansion. What could go wrong?

Forty-five minutes later, he was in the back of a limo, looking out tinted windows at the nightclub known as Hel's Paradise. There was a long line of people waiting to get inside, and nothing looked even remotely out of place about it.

There was really nothing for it but to go inside.

Tony got out of the limo and headed around the line up to the pair of bouncers in front of the door.

They didn't even look at him. "Back of the line, please, sir."

Tony blinked between them, honestly unsure which one of the hulking giants had spoken. "I think if you-"

The other one spoke in the exact same bored, monotone voice. "Back of the line, sir, we don't want any trouble."

Tony just stood there for a long beat until, finally, one of them looked up.

"Sir-" He cut himself off within five seconds of seeing Tony's face. "Mr. Stark!" he suddenly exclaimed.

"Mr. Stark was my father," Tony responded with a faint smile, "it's Tony. So do you think that I could get inside?"

The bouncer's face fell. "I'm really sorry, Mr- Tony, but the club is reserved for a private event. Only those on the guest list are allowed inside."

Tony really should have just turned around and headed back to the limo. The unknown texter had had his fun. Tony was done. But he just had to see…. "Could you check the list for me?"

The guy looked doubtful, but he checked anyway, eyes eventually widening. "My apologies, Mr. Stark," he said with wide eyes. "You're indeed on the list. But…" he glanced at the clock, looking confused, "it says you're only to be allowed inside at exactly 4am."

On impulse, Tony pulled out his phone and checked the time stamp on the very first text. He wasn't even surprised when it read precisely 3am. Clever, persnickety bastard. "I'll just hang around for three minutes then," Tony said simply. There was no way he was going home without finding out who was behind this now.

Three minutes of playing on his phone later, the bouncer moved out of the way, and Tony was allowed inside.

First, it just looked like a nightclub. It was full of dancing people writhing together on the floor while lights played above them, music resounding through the entire building. There was a glass ceiling with a bunch of exotic dancers performing directly above them. Obviously, this place was classy and expensive. Tony looked around, heading for the bar and picking himself up a scotch. He wondered if he even knew the person who had sent him the texts.

"While attendance was, once again, most certainly not mandatory, I'm glad you decided to come."

Tony turned slowly, somehow not even surprised to see Loki lounging a few seats down at the bar. For some reason, the first words out of his mouth were, "You said I wouldn't be bored. What do you call waiting outside in the dark for five minutes?" So he was rounding up; sue him.

Loki arched a perfect eyebrow. "You were outside in the dark for three minutes, not five-" how in the absolute hell did he know that?- "and I did tell you to arrive in an hour," Loki said with a self-satisfied smirk. "With that being said, I do apologize for your boredom. It won't happen again." His eyes gleamed with all sorts of mischievous promises.

"What makes you think I'm sticking around?" Tony challenged.

"The same reason I knew you'd come," Loki said as he slipped from his seat, getting right up in Tony's personal space. "You're like me," he whispered right in Tony's ear.

Then, heedless of the scotch that Tony would be abandoning on the bar, Loki grabbed the shorter man's hand and dragged him onto the dance floor.

This time, he stayed with him.

Damn, Loki could dance. He moved his body to the beat in all the right ways, swaying his hips and looking at Tony with those daring green eyes that just seemed to be begging Tony to fuck him.

As though Loki could read his mind, he leaned down and whispered. "Later, Stark. We have other things to do first."

The night was a blur to Tony. Trying to recall it later, he would only be able to say a few things for certain- there was a great deal of alcohol, mostly consumed by Tony. There were also quite a few drugs, those mostly taken by Loki. The dancing at one point escalated to the pair of them grinding together in the bathroom, and it was shortly after that amazing blowjob from Loki that everything calmed down enough for Tony to sober up slightly.

They were both lying on the same sofa in one of the back corners of the nightclub, Tony's head pillowed in Loki's lap while the taller man propped his feet up on the table in front of them. He was smoking, which Tony was sure couldn't be allowed, but he sure as hell wasn't going to say anything.

"So, how'd you get my private number?" That had been bothering him since the first text.

Loki grinned. "Guess."

Tony huffed an annoyed sigh, but he decided to play along. If it were him, how would he have done it? "Hacked the system?" He didn't even want to suggest it, as the idea that his defenses were so easily penetrated, even by a genius like Loki, was highly disturbing.

Loki laughed. "Try again."

Tony tried not to let his relief show too obviously. "Managed to con Pepper?" Seemed unlikely, but Tony could already tell that Loki was a spectacular actor when he wanted to be.

"Mm. That could have been fun," Loki mused. "Last chance."

Tony thought for a long moment. "You stole it the night you came over when I went to the bathroom and texted yourself," he tried. "Then you deleted the text on my phone so I wouldn't know."

Loki grinned somewhat proudly. "Bravo. I knew you could do it."

"So you were already so sure you'd want it later?"

Loki shrugged. "You're a relatively powerful man in some circles, Stark. It couldn't hurt to have your private number. Besides, by that point, I already knew that the sex was good enough to want to come back for seconds."

Tony couldn't help the startled laugh that left him at that. "And to think," he snarked, "I thought you were my one night stand."

"Well that was somewhat foolish of you," Loki said flatly, making Tony chuckle again.

"How'd you get me on the guest list?"

Loki looked down at him like he had just asked an incredibly idiotic question. "Come now, Stark. Use that famous brain of yours."

It barely took him a second. "You're the one who reserved the nightclub."

"There you go. You had me worried there for a moment, Stark. There'd be more than a few people displeased with me if I managed to ruin that head of yours."

Tony arched an eyebrow. "Since when do you care about what other people think?"

Loki conceded the point with a nod. "Well, I'd be displeased. You're the only person who's had the slightest prayer of being able to keep up with me."

The egotism was so expected by this point that Tony didn't even spare the energy to roll his eyes. "Keep up with you intellectually or in sex?" He waggled his eyebrows.

Loki laughed. "Don't flatter yourself; I'm still much better than you at sex."

"Well, see, now I'm going to have to prove you wrong."

Loki's eyes gleamed. "What did you think I was trying to accomplish?"

Tony grinned and laid his head back down, staring at the girls on the ceiling. "It must have cost a fortune to rent this club," he commented.

Loki shrugged. "A small one."

"What do you do for a living?" Tony asked after a moment. "This sort of lifestyle doesn't support itself."

Loki grinned. "I suppose you'd know."

Tony gave him a look.

The taller man shrugged, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "I do a lot of things, mostly working as a consultant for various companies."

"Consulting about what?"

"Things," Loki said mysteriously, winking down at Tony.

Still slightly drunk, the inventor giggled. "You're kind of a bad liar."

Loki laid a hand to his breast, as though offended. "The word I spoke was only true! I do indeed consult on numerous subjects which can be classified as, 'things'."

Tony just stared at him. "Where the hell did you learn to speak like that?"

"My brother likes Shakespeare," Loki grumbled, apparently less than pleased with that fact.

Tony gaped. "You have a brother?"

Loki's eyes grew slightly more guarded, but he didn't try to backtrack. Probably because he was high. "I do. Do you have family, Stark?"

The question seemed far too familiar, and Tony began to wish for another drink. "No."

So you are a man who has everything, and nothing.

"Mm. You're better off without it."

The words, so different than the reaction of the last man who had asked him that question, startled a short laugh out of Tony. "You think?"

"Family is good for very little," Loki assured him. "But surely you had some?"

"Parents, of course," Tony admitted. "My father, to whom I was only ever a disappointment, and my mother… both of whom died in a car accident years ago." Tony blinked. "I… don't tell people about that."

Loki shrugged. "Perhaps because no one asks."

"Most people already know." Tony paused. "You already knew." It wasn't a question.

Loki nodded. "I did. But the point wasn't to learn."

"Then what was the point?"

"You tell me."

Tony thought about it for a moment. "You want me to trust you," he concluded before frowning. "Why do you want me to trust you?"

Loki smiled faintly. "Must I truly have a reason, Anthony?"

There was a beat where they locked eyes before Tony cleared his throat. "You're really never going to call me Tony, are you?"

"It seems rather unlikely," Loki agreed with a mischievous smirk.

Tony chuckled softly and closed his eyes.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

"Tony," Pepper began, sounding very wary, "I'm not sure this is the best idea." They'd rather been walking on tiptoes around one another since the Loki-motorcycle incident.

Tony looked up from where he was working on the blueprints for his latest invention. "Why not?" he asked, all innocence.

Pepper sighed heavily, giving him a look. "You know very well why not. Infuriating your opposition, especially when that opposition is Hammer, who has already proven himself to be far from hesitant in using less than legal means to achieve his goals, just seems…. Well, honestly, Tony, it's like you're purposefully poking the bear!"

Tony huffed a sigh, putting down one of his tools so that he could pivot his chair around to look at his assistant. "Pepper, it has nothing to do with that. Hammer Tech is a massive fraud. Their inventions don't work, they're involved in more than a few shady dealings, and the US government shouldn't be working with them."

Pepper gave him a look. "You didn't exactly leave them much choice when you suddenly dropped all our weapons manufacturing."

"I wanted to help make the world a better place," Tony said with a grand gesture. "That didn't mean that I was inviting the DoD to start dealing with Hammer. Regardless," he continued, holding up a hand to forestall Pepper's arguments, "Hammer is involved in illegal activities, and I think it's about time that we told the public as much."

"We don't have proof, Tony."

Tony grinned, placing a hand on his chest as though wounded. "Why, Ms. Potts! Surely you don't think that I would go to Congress with baseless accusations?" He winked, spinning back around in his chair. "Don't you worry yourself over the details. This is just my side project."

"Your 'little side project' is going to get you killed," Pepper told him flatly.

The door to the workshop suddenly swung open, and Loki appeared, dressed in Tony's sweatpants and a loose black t-shirt that he had, once again, managed to keep on through the entire night. Tony was basically taking it as a challenge at this point, and he glared at the t-shirt as the Englishman entered the room.

Pepper gasped. "What the hell is he doing here?" Wow. Pepper never swore.

Loki assumed a sheepish expression that looked so real Tony honestly thought that he might have been hallucinating the whole thing. Loki didn't get sheepish, and yet- there he was. "My apologies, Ms. Potts. Am I interrupting something?" He looked between them with a meaningful look, and it actually took Pepper less time to catch his meaning than Tony.

She blushed. "Of course not!"

Loki perked up instantly, back to his old mischievous self in the space of time it took to blink, sauntering over to Tony. "Excellent! Then it won't be a problem if I stay." This he said while looking over Tony's shoulder at his project blueprints with an interested expression.

Pepper looked like she was about one more quip away from spontaneous combustion. "Tony, may I speak with you?"

"You're welcome to," he said with a vague wave in her direction.

"Alone," she said strenuously.

Tony looked up at her with big eyes. "Why?"

Pepper actually ground her teeth, and Loki looked like he was having a hard time not breaking into laughter. He was right; she really was too easy. "Tony," she tried in a calmer tone, "just think about this… side project carefully. I don't want you to get hurt."

Tony just wanted her gone at this point so that he could fuck his- Loki. Fuck Loki. Into the desk, preferably. He deserved it for the way that he was currently stroking Tony under the table. "I'm trying to do the right thing, Pep. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do now?"

She recoiled, a look of regret passing over her face. "Of course, Mr. Stark," she murmured. "Will that be all?"

"That will be all, Ms. Potts," he sighed. He'd have to fix that later, but for now she really couldn't leave the room fast enough.

As soon as she was gone, he turned on Loki, standing at the same time, and pushing the taller man into the metal table behind him to plunder his mouth. "You are such an asshole," Tony breathed into his mouth a few moments later.

Loki laughed, light and delighted. "Life is more fun that way; you should try it sometime."

Tony snorted and pulled away, going back to his computer while Loki settled in behind him.

After a few moments of silence, Tony turned to look at him. "You really don't have to stay here," he offered. "If you want to grab breakfast, or just… you know, leave."

Loki arched an eyebrow. "Are you kicking me out?"

Tony shook his head. "I'm really not. I just…. Most people tend to find this pretty boring."

Loki tisked. "Really, Stark. I would have thought you'd have learned by now. I am not, nor have I ever been, 'most people'."

Tony laughed. "Yeah, I guess I did know that. Still. I mean, do you have any experience in engineering or programming?"

"Not really," Loki admitted, "unless you count playing with people's minds."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"But I still enjoy watching you work," the consultant said, surprising Tony a fair amount.

"Okay. Well, um... watch away."

And Loki seemed content to do just that.

At first, it was a bit strange, having someone down there. Tony felt moderately self-conscious, but the feeling fled quickly. It was aided by the fact that Loki kept his distance, didn't get in his personal space, and wasn't entirely silent either. Occasionally, he would quietly ask a shockingly insightful question, and Tony found himself enjoying the act of explaining things to the other man. Many of the subjects of conversation were things that he had always just, instinctively, known, and explaining them to someone else lent him useful new information on the subject and better understanding of it.

Beyond that, Loki was just good company. He managed to keep Tony more focused than even music could, and when the inventor found himself sucked into a particularly hard problem, unable to even see or hear the outside world, somehow, Loki seemed to know.

When Tony came out of that place, he found a sandwich on his desk with an unopened bottle of water. Loki was back in his seat, and Tony hadn't even noticed him move.

"What time is it?"

"Two in the afternoon," Loki responded from where he appeared to be surfing the web on his phone, not looking up.

Tony leaned back in his chair. "It's been a while then."

"About three hours. The sandwich probably isn't real fresh, but hopefully it's still decent."

"I'm sure it is." Tony took a bite. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Loki finally looked up, smiling. "Even geniuses have to eat."

Tony chuckled. "So we do." He exhaled, standing and stretching. "So, what've you been up to?"

"Oh, hacking into your private servers and downloading sensitive information about all your military contracts."

Tony choked.

Loki burst out laughing.

Tony unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and splashed water on the taller man, who danced out of the way of most of it, still laughing so hard he could hardly breath. "Shut up," Tony growled.

"You should have seen your face," Loki chortled, getting himself under control.

"What are you, five?"

"No. I'm twelve."

Tony couldn't help but breathe a surprised laugh at that, noting the grin still plastered on Loki's face. "I don't think I've ever heard you laugh so hard," he noted.

Loki shrugged, settling back into his seat on top of one of the work tables. "It's not often I have occasion to."

Tony nodded slowly. "So, what were you really doing?"

"Looking up party locations for tonight."

Tony blinked. "Oh."

Loki looked up, giving Tony a patient look. "You understand that I'm no less an addict than I was yesterday, yes?"

Tony scoffed. "Of course."

"Just because I've spent the last three-"

"Four, actually."

"-nights here doesn't mean that I'm-" Loki stopped. "Four?"

"Four nights, three days."

Loki grinned. "Someone's keeping track," he teased.

Tony rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders somewhat uncomfortably. "It's not that hard to count to four."

Loki smiled. "Indeed it is not." He was going to let it go. Tony was never sure if he should be thankful or fearful when Loki did that. "But, regardless, I'm going out tonight."

"Okay. Have fun."

"You could come with me."

Tony sighed. Now, how did I know he was going to say that? "I'm still dealing with the aftermath of Pepper from the last time, Lokes." He ignored the face that the nickname got him. "I'm trying to be… responsible."

"Why?" Loki said flatly, challenging him.

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"Says who? Who is anyone else to judge what the right thing for you is? Answer me this, Stark- are you happy? Are you happy, living this life?"

Tony paused, considering. I am with you here. Truth be told, he'd been beyond bored before Loki had shown up in his life. He'd spent his nights fighting and losing to the urge to drink himself into oblivion and had still woken up screaming in the morning. He'd taken up the assault against Hammer just to do something to relieve the boredom. Boredom that he had formerly fixed, much like Loki, with parties, drugs, and sex.

But since Loki, that had all changed. Granted, his arrival had signaled the return of copious amounts of alcohol, drugs, and sex, but Loki had done more than that. Beyond introducing him to another fix- adrenaline- Loki had managed to make life as a whole less boring. Breakfast was normally Tony's least favorite meal, but as much as Tony hated mornings, Loki hated them more, and watching the taller man stumble around the kitchen looking for tea had been simultaneously frightening, as Loki seemed likely to murder anyone for speaking in the morning, and hilarious. Mundane things like meals, business meetings, and designing boring projects just became… more with Loki there. More exciting, more intriguing, more interesting. More.

He wanted to tell Loki as much. But they knew better. Though Tony might not have been foolish enough to claim that he had done something so stupid as to fall in love with the trickster, confessing any kind of attachment would do nothing for either of them. Loki wasn't sticking around. They both knew that. Despite the fact that he had managed to make Tony's life far more interesting, Tony's life was not interesting enough for Loki. And they both knew it.

So Tony just answered with, "Sometimes."

Loki smirked. "Sure you are, Stark."

Tony just took a sip of old coffee. "What about you? Are you happy, living like you do?"

Loki shrugged, eyes gleaming. "Sometimes."

Tony snorted, rolling his eyes but not pressing. It wasn't like he could ever scold Loki for being uncommunicative. Talk about the pot and the kettle.

Loki suddenly hopped down from the table. "See you around, Stark."

Tony blinked, surprised. "You're leaving?"

Loki turned around at the doorway, smirking. "Don't worry. I'll be back. And you always have my number."

Tony was smiling when he walked out the door.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

"I think I need help," Tony announced to the room at large.

Loki groaned from where he was lying on the couch with a massive hangover. He'd shown up at Tony's doorstep at a little after five o'clock in the morning, drunk, high, and with his clothes a complete mess. He'd proceeded to drag Tony into the mansion and fuck him for a surprisingly long time considering his state. It was hardly the best sex Tony had ever had, but it still rated a lot better than most people did sober. After that, Loki had simply crashed on the couch wearing only his dress shirt.

"Shut up, Stark," Loki growled in response to Tony's words. It was progress, really. Earlier, Loki hadn't even seemed to know in whose house he was. Honestly, Tony was just a little bit concerned. It seemed like this was a bit much- even for Loki. Usually he stuck with either drugs or alcohol- not both. Tony knew better than to ask though. Asking would get him absolutely no where.

"I think I need to ask for help," Tony said again.

"I agree; professional help would do you good," Loki moaned. "I'll get you the names of the best psychiatrists in the business."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Hunny, if the best psychiatrists in the business owe you a favor, you should really just be using that on yourself."

Loki snorted, sounding more himself. "I'd break them."

Tony laughed. "You probably could," he agreed, "but that's not the type of help I meant anyway."

"Oh?"

"I think I need to hire a corporate freelancer."

There was a beat. "A spy?" Loki asked, finally poking his head up over the back of the couch.

"Yeah. I can hack Hammer's files just fine, but I don't actually know what I'm looking for. I'm not familiar with all the ways people cheat on their deals and what not. Hell, I don't even know what a standard contract looks like; I never paid attention to that part."

Loki chuckled softly. "And people say that you're not responsible."

"Shut up. Point is, I think I need help."

"You've mentioned."

"So... where does one go to hire a corporate spy?"

Loki rolled his eyes, putting his head back down on the armrest. "How the hell should I know?"

"I don't know; you know all sorts of shit!"

Loki laughed. "Well, I don't know this. Find somebody else."

Tony grumbled under his breath. "Fine. I will."

There was a beat.

"Did you go back to sleep?" Tony asked suspiciously.

There was no answer.

Tony rolled his eyes and stood. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered rounding the couch and laying a hand on Loki's shoulder. "Dude, you can't spend the rest of your life here."

Loki's arm snapped out like a viper and grabbed Tony, who gave a somewhat undignified squeal as he was pulled down on the couch with Loki somehow ending up on top of him.

"How the hell did you get up there?" Tony demanded breathlessly.

Loki laughed, eyes glittering warmly. "I'm talented."

"I noticed." Tony waggled his eyebrows.

Loki rolled his eyes. "Shame on you, Stark. Do you think of nothing but sex?"

Tony shrugged carelessly. "You're the one who jumped me."

Loki laughed. "So I did. And I intend to take full advantage of that." He worked Tony's belt loose, untucking his faded AC/DC t-shirt and going to pull it over his head.

Tony's hands on his wrists stopped him from getting halfway up his chest.

Loki paused, looking up at Tony with a small, somewhat sad smile. "It seems we still have a ways to go on the trust front."

Tony blinked. Wait… did he actually give a damn? "I'll let you take mine off, if you let me take yours."

Loki suddenly grew guarded. "I've never stopped you."

"Not with force," Tony agreed, "but you always seem to find your way around it. You distract me, with something or another, or switch our positions, or twist around in my arms to dislodge my grip. There's always something. You're hiding just as much as I am."

Loki hesitated. "You're right," he agreed quietly. And then he did the last thing Tony expected. He reached up and started unbuttoning his dress shirt until it was completely gone. Then he pulled his white undershirt over his head, revealing his pale chest.

Tony inhaled sharply.

Crisscrossing in webs across his pale skin were thin white lines of even paler flesh, small scars cut with a precision in patterns across his arms, shoulders, and chest. Had they been tattoos, Tony might have called the designs beautiful, stunning, even, but that was the last thing on his mind now. Among the carefully traced scars that wove across Loki's pale skin were burn marks, where it seemed someone had put out their cigarettes on him. And, occasionally, there would be a longer, thicker scar, not part of any design, but perhaps given out of anger or frustration.

Loki's head was bowed, hiding his expression from Tony's searching gaze, and his eyes were closed tightly. Every muscle on his body seemed to be taut with tension, and Tony fought down the flash of pity that threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to grab Loki and hold him to his chest, to keep him far from the rest of the world, but that clearly wasn't what the trickster needed. He needed what Tony needed- to be accepted.

Tony carefully lifted a hand and traced down one of the lines of the scars, Loki's skin trembling under his touch. Then he tipped Loki's chin up, making the man look at him, his jaw set hard and eyes burning with an unknown emotion.

Tony kissed him.

He doubted that Loki's lips had ever been so unyielding in the past, but the stiffness of shock lasted only a few seconds before the taller man was kissing him back with indescribable passion. Tony read in that kiss what Loki would never express in words- gratitude.

When they were forced to break apart for air, Tony resisted the urge to ask questions. Those could wait. At the moment, he had a bargain to fulfill. He reached for his own shirt with trembling fingers, and for a moment Loki looked legitimately confused, but then his expression cleared and he leaned back to give Tony more room.

The shirt landed on the floor with a muffled thud, and the soft glow of the arc reactor shone in the utterly silent room.

Loki stared at it with an expression that looked oddly like wonder. "What is it?" he murmured, quiet and almost… reverent?

Tony cleared his throat. "It's an arc reactor. You know that I was… in Afghanistan?"

Loki nodded, brow furrowed.

"I got hit with shrapnel there. This," he tapped the reactor, "keeps the metal from reaching my heart."

Loki blinked. "You made it yourself." It wasn't a question. "In the caves of Afghanistan. While being held captive."

Tony tried a smirk. It didn't feel quite right. "Genius, remember?"

Loki smiled faintly. "How could I forget?" His hands skimmed over the scar tissue around the reactor, making Tony tense, and then he responded the same way Tony had- he leaned down and kissed him.

As Tony kissed back, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, falling in love with the man on top of him wasn't such a terrible idea.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

That night, the night when both of them had lost at least some of their defenses, marked a turning point in their relationship. Soon after that, Loki stayed the night in Tony's bed without being blackout drunk. He had nightmares, but Tony woke him. He woke him and didn't ask questions. The night after, Tony repaid the favor, waking up choking on phantom water. He'd thrown up, and Loki had stayed by him. He hadn't asked questions either.

Answers weren't necessarily required to deduce some things though. Tony was pretty much positive that Loki knew he'd been drowned repeatedly in Afghanistan, and it wasn't difficult to figure out what they'd wanted from him. Someone far less clever than he could have figured it out by now, and Loki was very clever. In return, Tony had figured out that Loki had been restrained for much of the infliction of scars, as when he dreamed his arms always tended to remain still, above his head. He never fought back. Tony had a sneaking suspicion that most, or at least some, of his scars had come from his own father, but that was a theory he kept to himself.

Even though the talking was minimal, Loki seemed to be around the Malibu mansion more and more often in recent days. He still went out partying on occasion, but he'd often come back at an almost reasonable time and crash in Tony's bed. He'd seemed to stop sleeping with as many people, though Tony wasn't so naive as to think Loki had gone monogamous. In turn, Loki's presence in his life had lent to Tony finding his work far less boring. The fact that he could talk about things freely with Loki gave him something he hadn't known he'd been missing. Discussion with an intellectual equal was… rare- for both of them.

Pepper seemed to become more resigned to his presence as well. Perhaps because, though he still occasionally dragged Tony out for some irresponsible, ill conceived bit of fun, over all, his companionship was calming to the inventor. Having him around the lab helped Tony focus, and Loki was surprisingly helpful when it came to looking into Hammer's business.

Unfortunately, not helpful enough.

"I still think I need help from someone who knows what they're doing," Tony muttered, staring blankly at the computer screen.

Loki rolled his eyes, slipping his arms around Tony's neck and resting his chin on his shoulder. "I think you need a break," the trickster said mischievously.

Tony couldn't help but smile. "You always think I need a break."

"And I'm rarely wrong."

Tony spun around in his chair and pressed a kiss to Loki's lips. "Why'd you talk to me at the nightclub?" Tony asked suddenly, out of the blue.

Loki blinked, pulling back to look at the inventor. "I recognized you. You looked miserable." Loki shrugged. "Plus, I wanted to see if you lived up to your reputation."

"Why'd you put me on the back of that bike?"

"Because it seemed like it would be fun." Loki grinned sharply. "It was."

"How'd you know I'd come to Hel's Paradise when you called?"

"Because you were curious. And bored."

"And we have so very much in common," Tony said dryly.

Loki grinned. "Exactly."

"You toy with people," Tony said flatly. He'd seen it on more than a few occasions. He'd watched how Loki fiddled with people's emotions, portrayed emotions perfectly even when they were utterly false. It was unnerving sometimes.

"Yes."

"I don't."

"You toy with machines." Loki shrugged. "You understand how machines work from a glance, it's instinctive, it's who you are. Complemented by many years of education and discovery, of course. It's no different for me, only instead of machines, I understand people."

"You sound like a psychopath sometimes," Tony stated, wondering how Loki would react to that.

"I am."

Well, that was not what he'd expected.

"What?"

Loki grinned. "I am. Or, at least, I have quite a few psychopathic tendencies." He shrugged.

"Isn't that something you're born?"

Loki nodded. "According to traditional psychology, psychopaths are born, sociopaths are bred. I would love to say that I was bred," he said with a rueful smile, "but I tend to fall more into the psychopath register. Not that you can't be both, of course."

Tony just stared for a moment. Then he shrugged. "Well, I knew you weren't normal from the get go. I suppose maybe this shouldn't come as such a surprise."

Loki laughed. "Not going to run away screaming?"

"Well, you haven't killed me yet."

Loki grinned with too many teeth. "No, not yet. Why should I deprive myself of such an excellent plaything? Smart people are the funnest to fool, you know."

Tony rolled his eyes. "So long as you're enjoying yourself."

"I always do." Loki responded airily. "Speaking of which, I'm bored, and since you refuse to take a break, I'm leaving."

Tony waved him off carelessly. "Have fun. Don't stay out too late."

Loki scowled lightheartedly. "I do as I please, Stark, but you can rest assured that I will have fun."

He walked out of the workshop without a backwards glance, and Tony concentrated on the screen in front of him for about five seconds after he left before pulling out his phone.

For some reason, Loki didn't seem to want Tony to get help with the Hammer thing. Maybe he didn't like the idea of a spy wandering around the mansion considering all the illegal activity that he considered "fun". Maybe it wounded his ego to think that they couldn't figure it out themselves. Maybe, though this one seemed far fetched, he was jealous of Tony's time. For whatever reason, that might boil down to simple trust issues, Loki was opposed to the idea. He'd never said as much out loud, but much as he had never physically prevented Tony from removing his shirt, he found ways to keep it from happening.

As Tony had noted from the beginning, Loki was sneaky.

But whatever the reasons, Tony needed some help digging into Hammer's stuff from someone who knew what evidence was submittable or not, someone who knew how much was enough, someone who knew for what they were looking. So he was calling in a favor.

The line rang three times before it was answered by a monotone, male voice. "Coulson speaking."

"Hey, Phil," Tony greeted with a smirk, leaning back in his chair. "How're things?"

There was a short beat. "Stark. What do you want?"

"I need a hand digging into something. Nothing illegal," he lied, "but I was hoping you might be able to lend a hand."

Coulson sighed. "The United States government isn't your personal errand boy, Stark. We have better things to do."

"Yeah, no, I wasn't asking for you to send one of your stuck-up clones. I just want a name. Someone who works this sort of thing freelancer. Someone you trust- as much as you trust anyone, that is."

There was a pause and then another sigh. "Give me a few hours, Stark. I'll see if I can't get you a name. After this, we're even," the agent warned.

Tony grinned. "See you around, Phil." He hung up. Even- yeah right. With the amount of money and embarrassment Tony had saved their secret little organization when Obadiah's fail safe had almost released a bunch of their private dealings to the public? They weren't even close to being even. Especially since they had refused to help him deal with his traitorous father-figure in the first place. Tony still wondered sometimes how the Ten Rings had managed to get so much information on Shield in the first place, but it hardly mattered now that the organization was dust.

Spinning around in his office chair, Tony waited.

It was about an hour later when his phone buzzed with a name and a number.

Tony grinned. Thanks, Phil.

 **End of Act One**

Tony wasn't sure how long he'd just laid there on the carpet in the Malibu mansion. At some point, he'd managed the strength to roll himself over on his back and stare at the ceiling rather than leave his face in the carpet, but other than that, he hadn't moved an inch.

He was gone. Loki was gone. He'd walked out the door, just like that. He'd fucking saved Tony (again), and then just walked away. Tony was torn between wanting to weep or scream at the sky. Maybe in time he'd do both, but for the moment, he was just lying there. On the floor. Because he just couldn't seem to muster the energy to move.

Loki was gone. He'd left, walked away. Because Tony was nothing, meant nothing. Whatever they'd had… it was nothing. He had used him, destroyed him, and left him all alone.

All alone.

Tony struggled to his feet and continued to stare blankly in front of him. The images were being reported to his mind, but it seemed his brain was unable to make sense of them- everything was all blurred. He took a shuddering breath.

Loki had left him. And not because of Loki. No, of course not. Loki had left because of Tony. Because Tony wasn't good enough. Because he was a miserable failure. Everyone thought so. His father had never loved him. Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, they were all just disappointed in him. Obadiah had considered him so worthless that he had tried to have him killed. And Loki was just like all the rest- walking away, because Tony Stark couldn't be fixed, couldn't be saved.

If they all thought he was so broken… who was he to contradict them? If they all thought he was worthless, they had to be right. They were all so much better than he was, and he made their lives a living hell.

Loki... had thought he needed to be fixed. Pepper felt like she wasn't smart. Rhodey felt ignored. Tony couldn't make anything better by talking to them. He'd tried. He'd tried to repair the relationships, but they all just kept falling apart. Because Tony was worthless.

There was nothing left for him to do.

He couldn't fix them; he couldn't fix him. Nothing could be fixed.

But maybe everything could be broken.

Without him, Pepper could run Stark Industries without have to cover and care for his irresponsible ass. Without him, the board could start the military contracts again, and maybe Rhodey wouldn't hate him so much. Without him, Loki could be free.

Tony didn't remember getting the chair or the rope. Hell, he didn't even know from whence the rope had come! But that didn't matter. It was there. His workshop had plenty of strong, metal support bars that would do the trick, and he threw the rope over one of them. A noose was far too easy to tie. He'd been tying it in one way or another his whole life.

He wondered briefly if Loki would come to the funeral. Probably not.

As his airway constricted and his legs flailed in the air, the last thing Tony heard as the darkness took him was a panicked cry of his name, "TONY!"

 **ACT TWO:**

 **The Turn**

The airport curb was busy with cars zipping in and out, picking people up from various locations and different terminals. Most of the benches stationed about the sidewalk were filled with small families resting their weary arms and backs, luggage scattered around the ground in easy reach. The occasional parking guard or TSA agent could be seen roaming about the area, keeping an eye out for suspicious activity.

One such agent noticed a young woman leaning against a pillar with a single duffel bag resting on the ground near her feet. She had the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up over her head and sunglasses despite the shade of the overhang jutting out over the pavement. She had been standing there, mostly unmoving, eyes focused on her phone, for over fifteen minutes.

He approached her and paused a respectful distance away. "Miss, would you like us to provide the number of a taxi service?" he offered. "Perhaps your ride had an unexpected delay."

The woman looked up slowly and then offered the officer a slightly shy smile that immediately put the middle-aged gentleman at ease. "Not quite yet, thank you. I texted them; they could still be on their way."

He nodded. "Alright. Just let myself or one of my partners know if you need anything."

She smiled. "Thank you, sir."

The man walked away, feeling like he had done something good with himself.

Natasha Romanova watched him go with a faint smile in her eyes, hidden behind her dark shades, before going back to her phone and the messages there.

The limo just arrived. Happy will be waiting for you when your flight lands. -Anthony Edward Stark

Was there some kind of delay? -Anthony Edward Stark

Did you get arrested or something? -Anthony Edward Stark

The limo is in the first level of the parking garage. -Anthony Edward Stark

Where the hell are you? The limo's been waiting in the parking garage for the last twenty minutes. -Anthony Edward Stark

Natasha smirked at the last message before finally sending a response.

 **I'm on the curb. Tell your driver to come pick me up.** -NR

It's about goddamn time. -Anthony Edward Stark

Five more minutes passed. Then ten.

Why aren't you in the United Airlines section? -Anthony Edward Stark

Another three minutes passed.

Where are you? Happy can't find you. -Anthony Edward Stark

Natasha waited as another ten minutes ticked by, ever so slowly.

I bought your fucking tickets, you goddamned spy. You flew United; why the HELL aren't you there? -Anthony Edward Stark

 **Delta.** -NR

It took another three minutes for the limo to pull into the correct section, but another seven passed of him driving around before he could park.

When the aggravated driver finally pulled into a large enough space next to the curb, Natasha picked up her duffel bag and slipped into the back seat casually.

The driver didn't say a word to her, instead addressing Stark via the car's phone system. "She's here."

"It's about fucking time."

"Your language is atrocious, Mr. Stark," Natasha commented casually from the back of the vehicle.

"As are your manners," Stark responded sharply. "Happy, get her back here as fast as possible, would you? She's already wasted enough time."

"Yes, sir."

Stark terminated the call from the other end.

Happy, the driver, didn't look back once, even going so far as to roll up the partition between them as he began driving.

Natasha smirked again and leaned back in her seat, catching a nap on the way there. The flight had been long and waiting around for almost an hour to prove a point hadn't made things any easier. She needed to be on top of her game when they reached Tony Stark's Malibu mansion.

The normal ninety minute drive was cut down to half that by luck and sheer determination on the part of the driver. He pulled into Stark's house a little after sixteen hundred and brought the car to a smooth stop.

Natasha exited the vehicle without waiting for permission and walked around to the driver's window, knocking on the tinted pane.

He rolled it down and looked at her in annoyance.

"It was nothing personal," she offered. "I had to make a point."

"Yeah, sure," Happy grunted. "Apologize to Tony."

Natasha blinked. "I wasn't apologizing at all."

Happy gave her a look and rolled the window back up, effectively ending the conversation.

Natasha shrugged. It wasn't like she needed the man on her side for any reason, and, if she did, it wouldn't be that difficult to win him over. Memories were such fickle things, so easily rewritten.

Walking with confidence, Natasha headed up to the side door closest to her arrival point, moderately surprised to find it unlocked, and strolled right in without knocking.

Well, she did have to give Stark credit for one thing- the guy had good taste. His mansion was decorated entirely in light, airy colors, and that combined with the sliding doors and the massive windows gave the entire mansion and incredibly open and spacious feel that almost as if the building had been created sheerly to combat claustrophobia. As she strolled through the open rooms, noting the art on the wall and easily deducing that it wasn't Stark's style, Natasha inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with fresh, temperate air.

"Ms. Romanova," Stark greeted, stepping out from behind his own private bar, "welcome."

Natasha looked at him carefully, noting the wariness in his movements, the calculated look in his eyes. He was no fool. "Stark," she greeted flatly.

"Welcome to Malibu," he offered, giving her an utterly false smile.

She didn't return it. "You were incredibly silent on the details of the job," she got straight to the point. "I wouldn't have even entertained your offer if it weren't for the fact that Coulson vouched for you, so if I don't like what you have to say, I'm getting right back on a plane out of here."

Stark nodded. "I'd expect no less, although somehow I think that maybe the money might have had something to do with your willingness to hear me out."

Natasha narrowed her eyes, but she let him continue uninterrupted.

"I want your help digging into Justin Hammer's company and files. I can do the hacking, but I don't know what I'm looking for. I don't know what Congress already knows when it comes to his corruption. I need something that they can't ignore."

"Congress can ignore anything. What you need is something the American people can't ignore and enough evidence to take to a press conference."

Stark considered and then nodded. "I don't care how, but I want him taken down."

"Personal, Stark?" Natasha asked, amused.

"Not particularly," Stark responded with a slight shrug. "There's really only one group with whom I have personal issues, and I already ruined them."

The Black Widow smirked. "When do I get started?"

Stark arched an eyebrow, undoubtedly surprised that she'd taken the job so easily, but that was his only outward reaction. "Whenever you wish. Your room is through there, and Jarvis will give you whatever you need."

Natasha wished to ask who Jarvis was, but she supposed she would learn soon enough. Instead, she gave Stark a simple nod and headed into her room.

"Welcome to your quarters, Ms. Romanova," a British voice sounded from above her, making her jump and her hand fly to one the ceramic knives hidden on her person. "I am Jarvis."

"You're an AI," she realized, looking around her in shock.

"Just a very intelligent system," was Jarvis' snarky response.

It took Natasha less than thirty seconds to figure it out, and she smirked, relaxing somewhat. "Alright then, Jarvis. Let's get to work."

The first thing Natasha did was see how far into Stark's files his "very intelligent system" would let her pry. Not very far, as it turned out, and she found herself moderately pleased by the level of security. Working for smart people was generally much more satisfying, and challenging, than working for morons. After testing the boundaries a bit, she started looking into what he already knew.

Hammer was a moron- that much was abundantly clear, but what didn't make sense was why he was so successful if he were so stupid. Morons didn't do well in the tech industry as a general rule, so why was he an exception? Also very clear was that he was dirty. Stark had been able to dig up that much on his own. Shady wire transfers, money coming and going from covert bank accounts with no legal reasons for it to be moving, not to mention how fast he managed to the DoD contracts- all of these things were clear evidence of manipulation of the system.

Still, it wasn't enough. In order to bring things before the press, Stark needed to know who Hammer had been bribing. He needed account numbers and hard numbers. That was why Natasha was here.

Having seen enough, she got down to business. It had been a while since she'd needed her hacking skills for a job, and, she had to admit, she preferred work where she could stay locked away in a little room with a computer to jobs where she had to put on skimpy dresses and pretend to be flattered by the attention of men twice her age. Spying definitely had its downsides on occasion.

She'd been locked in the room for three hours when her phone chimed suddenly, wrenching her out of her thoughts with a frown. She grabbed it, her brow furrowing further at the message.

23973 Harris Road. Twenty-six minutes. -Unknown

Natasha frowned heavily and looked down at her watch. It was four after the hour. Possible OCD, control freak, and/or perfectionist then.

 **Who is this?** -NR

A friend. Twenty-four minutes, Kat. -Unknown

Natasha stared at her phone for a long moment before abruptly leaving the room.

Stark was standing in the kitchen, getting a cup of coffee. He looked surprised to see her. "Ms. Romanova-"

"I'm going out," she cut him off. "I'll be back in a few hours."

He just looked at her for a beat. "Okay." He pulled something off of the wall and threw them to her.

She caught the object in surprise, finding car keys in her hand.

"Motorcycle or car; take your pick."

Natasha had to admit- so far Stark was turning out to be one of the best employers she'd had in a long time. "Thanks." She slipped out of the house and found the correct motorcycle, immediately checking for tracking devices. All she found was a simple GPS for the bike that she immediately disabled. She'd bring him his bike back.

She reached the address with three minutes to spare and just sat on the bike until it was precisely the correct time, just watching. The address had led her to a closed bar, and she crossed the street, looking around cautiously.

"Hello, Natasha," a quiet, English voice came from behind her.

She whirled to find Loki there, covered in a long black coat, watching her carefully. "Silver," she greeted him. "How did you know I was in Malibu?"

"Because I know who hired you." Loki suddenly looked very tired. "Walk with me, Natasha?"

She took his arm, and the two headed down the sidewalk together. "What's going on? Why did you call me here?"

"Anthony Stark believes himself to be in love with me," Loki stated flatly.

"What are you playing at, Loki?"

"Would you believe me if I said nothing?"

"Not in a million years." She stopped and turned to look at him, surprised at the level of exhaustion in his green gaze. "You look… tired."

"I am. Tired of running, tired of lying. I met Stark by chance, Kat, but he happens to be one of the most interesting people on the planet."

Natasha watched him carefully. "Do you have feelings for him?"

"Does it matter?" Loki sighed. "I'm just asking you not to react to my presence at the mansion. I'm asking you not to reveal that you know me. That's all."

"He doesn't know what you do."

"What I did, Natasha," Loki corrected with probably the most energy he'd had in the conversation. "I'm not that anymore."

She watched him carefully. "You seem different," she admitted after a moment. "So long as you don't jeopardize the life of the client or get in my way, we'll be fine."

Loki smiled, appearing to be genuinely relieved. "Thank you, Kat."

Natasha watched him go with a faint smile. "You've known that isn't my name for years now; why do you still use it?"

He paused, shrugging. "It suits you, Katerina." He grinned, sharp and dangerous, the Loki she remembered from years ago for a moment, but then he was gone.

Natasha stared into the darkness for only a few moments before shaking her head.

If anyone was a match for the Loki she'd known, it was Anthony Edward Stark.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

Tony missed his moping trickster.

Not that Loki was his per say, but still. Ever since Tony had told him that he had hired some outside help, Loki had been moping around, and now that Ms. Super-spy was actually at the mansion, the beautiful psychopath had made himself entirely scarce. Tony hadn't seen him in a few days, and he was really starting to miss the guy's snarky commentary on literally everything that happened. Not to mention the sex. Yeah, he'd missed the sex immediately.

Anyway, Tony missed Loki, and it was starting to put him in a bad mood.

Thus, it was with a bit of relief that he walked into the kitchen of his Malibu mansion one morning, somewhat hungover, if he was being entirely honest, and found the tall, green-eyed, enigmatic Norse deity (or close enough) standing in his kitchen making him coffee. Or perhaps making himself coffee. It was always difficult to say with Loki.

"Lokes!" Tony exclaimed, a bit too loudly, as he winced at his own voice mere seconds later. "You're back!"

Loki turned slowly, coffee pot and mug in his hands. "Stark," he greeted, "coffee?"

For both of them then. "We're back to Stark?" Tony whined. Much as he didn't care for Anthony either, it was still better than the guy he was sleeping with calling him by his last name.

Loki rolled his eyes. "I fail to understand your obsession with what I call you."

"What would you say if I started calling you-" Tony spluttered for a moment, "-Lulu?"

Loki just blinked at him. "I would say that you are fairly unimaginative and ask, once again, if you would like some coffee."

Tony stared at him for a moment before crashing on one of the stools in front of the counter and giving in. "Fine."

Loki arched an eyebrow.

It took Tony several minutes to get it, at which point his jaw literally dropped in disbelief before he eventually conceded for the sake of caffeine. "Please. Will you please give me my own goddamn coffee?" Loki seemed to have a strange attachment to that word, or maybe just to seeing Tony beg, and the inventor couldn't help but shiver as he thought about the first time he'd said it and the explosive sex that had followed.

Loki poured some of the beverage into Tony's own fucking mug before handing it over, and Tony pulled himself out of his musings in time to hear Loki comment, "Someone's in a bad mood."

Tony bit back the immediate retort that sprang to his lips and tried to think for a moment. Thinking, in the this case, meant act like Loki and attempt to psychoanalyze the man in front of him. "And you are very calm," he noted. Something seemed wrong.

Loki shrugged. "I can't be in a good mood?"

"I don't know. Can you?" Tony sipped at his coffee.

Loki smirked suddenly. "Now you sound like me," he said, and there was no mistaking that the words were meant to be praise.

Tony tried not to take them as such but failed miserably. "Ms. Romanova is here."

"I've noticed." Still no reaction. Fucking weird.

"Have you been introduced?"

"Not formally." Loki shrugged. "She's a spy; one would hope that she would notice my presence eventually."

"And you're still an asshole."

He smiled. "Would you expect any differently?"

"Never." And Tony grinned. "I'm glad you're back." Immediately after the words left his lips, Tony froze. What? He hadn't meant to-

"So am I," Loki admitted, a shadow briefly clouding his eyes.

"You are?" Tony didn't mean to sound so skeptical. He really didn't.

Loki looked amused when he drew his gaze back up to meet Tony's wide brown eyes. "Yes. Strange as it is to imagine, I find that I actually enjoy your company," he drawled. "Intelligent conversation is incredibly difficult to find." He grinned sharply. "The sex is fairly impressive at times as well."

Tony breathed a laugh at that. "Yeah, can't argue there."

There was a moment of silence.

"I thought… you'd be unhappy with me for calling Romanova."

Loki arched an eyebrow. "What gave you that impression?"

"You always found a way to keep me from looking for help when you were around. Sometimes you're not quite as clever as you think."

Loki chuckled at that. "I'm always precisely as clever as I think," he corrected, "sometimes you just manage to be more clever than I anticipated."

Tony wasn't really sure how to take that. "I'm glad I manage to surprise you, then."

"It is a fairly rare occurrence," Loki commented, "yet it seems you have quite the knack for it."

"Really?" Now that was a compliment. "And here I thought I was just as predictable as the rest of us boring normal people."

Loki laughed. "You are neither normal nor boring, Anthony. If you were, I would have left a long time ago."

Something about the phrasing of that statement struck Tony as ominous for some reason, but before he could put his finger on it, Loki was talking again.

"On the matter of Ms. Romanova, I think so long as she stays to her business and leaves me to mine, we won't have any issues."

"Well, she is a spy," Tony laughed lightly, "but she should have enough common sense to keep her nose out of her business."

"Excellent." And just like that, Loki grinned, as though it meant nothing, making Tony reevaluate some of the things he thought he knew.

"You're spectacularly difficult to read," Tony stated flatly, somewhat annoyed that he was even trying. That was all Loki's influence.

The man in question grinned broader. "I try," was his smart-ass response.

Tony rolled his eyes. "So, do you have plans tonight?"

Loki just shrugged. "I had rather intended to stay inside and fuck you so hard into your bed that you scream and find it incredibly difficult to face Ms. Romanova in the morning."

Tony nearly choked on his coffee. He spluttered, "You- What?"

Loki grinned. "Any objections?"

Tony stared at him for a moment and then smirked. "I think you overestimate how easy it is to embarrass me." He waggled his eyebrows in challenge.

Loki's grin grew wider and slightly more manic, showing too many teeth. "I hope you realize that I intend to take that as a challenge, Stark."

Tony sipped at his coffee. "I should certainly hope so. It was meant as one."

Loki laughed. "Well then, we should probably get started."

"My thoughts exactly."

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

"If you complete the framework of the code over there and send me the structure, I think I'll be able to fill in the blanks with something more targeted towards what we need."

The competition had ended up at a draw, even though Tony was pretty sure he'd actually won. Though Loki had discovered something that would have prevented Tony from looking Natasha in the eyes for any length of time, it wasn't something either of them were particularly interested in trying, so they had let the challenge come to a rest. Tony still claimed that since he was perfectly capable of not only looking at Natasha but also working with her and holding up a conversation, he had won.

"You with me, Stark?" the spy in question asked him, sounding faintly amused.

Tony forcibly pulled himself out of his thoughts and turned to her with a slightly sheepish grin. "Yeah, sorry, I'm here. Finishing the framework now."

As it turned out, Nat wasn't terrible company. Oddly enough, Loki had actually been the first to engage her in an actual conversation, immediately shortening her name to "Nat" without permission or hesitation. He used it so often now that Tony found himself picking up on it by accident, though he tried to avoid using it aloud. It just struck him as impolite. Plus, she refused to call him anything but Stark, although Loki had gotten on a first-name basis instantly. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Tony was her actual employer, and Loki was just his friends with benefits in her eyes.

Regardless, the Black Widow, as her code name had been revealed by Coulson, was one of those few people who could actually manage to hold a decent, intelligent conversation with Loki and Tony. She was very cautious about what she said, but when the subject turned to something impersonal, she proved to be a formidable partner and a viable expert in quite a few fields. Tony could see himself become fast friends with her- if only she weren't quite so uptight.

Things being as they were, Tony considered himself lucky to have found her and was pleasantly surprised by how well they worked together.

"What the hell is up with your data transfer rates, Stark?" she asked a moment later, sounding annoyed.

Tony frowned, rolling his chair from his table to hers so that he could look at her screen. "I don't know; what the hell is up with my data transfer rates?"

"They're slower than a snail. I understand the value of patience, but one would think with all this technology and brains at your disposal, you could have gotten it to go a little faster."

Tony's brow furrowed even further as he stared at the screen. She was right. "That doesn't make any sense," he muttered. "Unless you're trying to copy basically all the files on my server, the speed shouldn't be-" Tony cut off, eyes flying open wide in a sudden panic as he pushed himself back over to his screen. "Fuck! Shit, shit, shit!"

"Stark?" Natasha asked, concerned.

"Someone's uploading data to a private server. They somehow managed a back door, and I didn't fucking notice!"

"How long has it been going on?"

"I don't know," Tony snapped as he hurried about slamming the door, something that wasn't all too difficult now that he was actually looking for it. "By the strain put on the systems... I'm going to say at least a month. Probably more."

"You didn't notice the processing speeds for a month?"

Tony shook his head. "Up until a few days ago, it wasn't influencing the processing speed. It looks like they got greedy."

"Do you know how much they got?"

"In a month of constant running in the background?" Tony scoffed. "I don't know what they couldn't have gotten. Somehow they had admin access." Tony stared at the screen for a long moment. "They had fucking administrator access, Nat. They did it from my computer without my noticing. Or Jarvis sounding an alarm."

"Who has access to your private devices?"

Tony shook his head, trying to think while his heart pounded in his chest. Betrayed. Again. "Pepper," he huffed, not even wanting to consider that, "Happy. He doesn't technically have access, but I leave my stuff around in the car all the time."

"Loki?" Natasha asked almost hesitantly.

"No. I mean, I leave my things lying around sometimes, but Jarvis would know if he used them for anything untoward. Same could be said for any of my one-night-stands." Tony leaned back in his chair. "Rhodey has access, and so do a few of the Board of Directors. It's got to be one of them."

Natasha arched an eyebrow. "You think they have the acumen to manage it?"

"I think that it's not one of my friends," Tony growled.

Natasha looked at him for a moment and then nodded slowly, backing off of the topic for the moment. "What can I do to help fix this?" she asked, all business.

Tony exhaled heavily, staring at his computer and then shooting her a grateful look. "Help me rebuild the firewall where it was breached. And make sure that there aren't any more open back doors into the system."

She nodded, and the two of them got to work.

Tony's head was still spinning from the discovery hours later when Natasha finally convinced him to head upstairs and take a break. She followed him, of course, as it was honestly unlikely that Tony would have left her unsupervised in the workshop even before this little disaster.

Loki seemed to know something was wrong as soon as he laid eyes on the shorter man. "What happened?"

"Someone used one of my devices or another one with administrator access to open a backdoor in the system, and then they downloaded a bunch of files to another server. God only knows how much they got or who it is who has it all," Tony explained bluntly, basically collapsing on the couch next to Loki. He felt rather like he was in shock, his head listing all the people who could have done it over and over and over on a never-ending loop. Not Pepper, was the only coherent thought in his mind. Just not Pepper.

Loki didn't ask any questions, almost like he could sense now was not the time. Rather, he just pulled Tony into his arms and held him close, turning on some mindless film to which tony paid no attention.

Who could have done that? Who would have done it?

Tony sat up bolt straight when the answer occurred to him, so obvious and in his face that he literally couldn't believe he hadn't seen it right away.

"Hammer," he breathed the name almost like a curse. "They hired someone. It had to be Hammer."

Loki sat up too, watching Tony carefully. "But you said it was an inside job," he reminded the inventor.

"So Hammer got to someone inside the company," Tony shrugged; the details didn't matter. If they could find evidence of the hack, they had their evidence. And hopefully they could take Hammer down entirely before they ever got to use what they stole. He turned to look at Loki, a manic gleam in his eyes. "The data was being uploaded to a third party; whoever stole the information still has to give it to Hammer, which means if we can take them down first, we can recover all the information. Nothing bad has to come of this."

"Anthony," Loki asked, very quiet, "what did they steal? What were they targeting?"

Just like that, Tony deflated like a balloon. "They were targeting my shelved designs. More specifically, the lethal ones. They were going after my new Jericho Missiles," he whispered. To be entirely honest, Tony didn't even know why he still had those plans aside from his inability to scrap anything that was that inspired. Even if it could kill millions and be a new weapon of mass destruction, it just hadn't been in Tony to destroy the plans.

Now he wished more than anything that he'd been able to shake his misplaced pride and hoarding tendencies for the purpose of keeping the world safe.

Keeping the world safe from Stark weapons. Because, no matter what name Hammer put on them, that was what they were. His weapons; his designs. And he was responsible for what was done with them.

Tony looked right at Loki with a determined look in his eyes. "I won't let them use them. I won't."

And Loki looked right back, meeting his gaze evenly. "I believe you."

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

Tony had thought that discovering he had been hacked was going to be the worse possible surprise the world had in store for him. At least for the week. Nothing could trump the fact that he'd obviously been betrayed by someone he'd trusted, even if the trust had only really been in theory. For the rest of the week, hell, probably for a whole month, nothing was going to top that. Everything else would seem minimal compared to it.

Obviously, the gods had not been paying attention.

He was back in the workshop again, because that's where he seemed to always be now- either in the workshop or with Loki. Not that the two were mutually exclusive, but Tony had pretty much cut off all contact with anyone who wasn't currently living in his Malibu house. While Loki had never moved any of his things there, he seemed perfectly comfortable just appropriating all of Tony's clothes, and Natasha was in one of the guest rooms.

Pepper, Rhodey, and even Happy kept calling, kept trying to drag him out of the house, but he ignored them. Even though it hurt more than he thought was possible to close them out like that, Tony didn't know who he could trust, and until he had actual evidence that one of them hadn't been manipulated into doing something against him, he couldn't face them. He just couldn't. Distance might have been slowly damaging their friendship, but Tony knew if he spoke to them, he'd kill the relationship with a dull knife.

So he ignored them. Let them think he was just on a another binge, whether drinking or inventing. It wasn't so strange for him to drop off the grid like this.

At least he wasn't totally alone. Natasha seemed to have taken a liking to him, although it was really hard to tell with her, and she obviously approved of him keeping his friends at arm's length. She hadn't been around when the back door had been installed, and, besides, Jarvis was monitoring her every move, so Tony didn't really suspect her. And then there was Loki.

Loki had, admittedly, been acting somewhat strange, but not in a, "I found a way to circumvent all your security systems and hack into your servers and then you just slammed the door in my face a few days ago," way. He just seemed more reserved. He hadn't really been leaving the mansion much of late, nor had he tried to drag Tony out to a party since he'd come back to find Natasha at the house. He was quieter, and Tony was slightly worried it was because of him.

Loki wasn't burdened with an overabundance of tact, but it was almost like he was tiptoeing around Tony lately, and the inventor didn't like it. Did he think he was going to blow up on him?

Or maybe he thought Tony suspected him of doing the hacking?

That thought hit Tony hard, and he abruptly stopped typing as it occurred to him. What if Loki thought Tony didn't trust him anymore? It was pretty obvious that, for whatever reason, Loki put a high value on trust. Maybe he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Shit.

Before he had really even registered what he was doing, Tony was out of his chair and running up the stairs to the main area of the mansion. Natasha was locked in her room, working on her own, which was fairly normal. It also meant that Loki basically had the house to himself, yet Tony found him in the main living area, curled up on the couch as though he were cold, his unfocused gaze upon the TV and the Game of Thrones rerun playing on it.

"Hey, Lokes," Tony said softly, trying not to disturb him.

Loki actually jumped, which showed just how lost in thought he'd really been. "Stark."

Tony winced. That was another thing he hadn't liked lately. It was always "Stark" from Loki for the past few days, and never "Anthony". It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

"I think… we should talk." Great work, Tony. That'll be sure to put him at ease.

Loki just smirked though. "Oh? What about?"

"You've been… kinda distant lately," Tony said quietly, rounding the couch to take a seat next to him, eyes fixed on the floor.

Loki blinked. "I have a fair bit on my mind." Tony was pretty sure he wasn't imagining the defensiveness in his voice. "My apologies that I didn't ask permission from the great Anthony Edward Stark."

Tony tried not to let Loki get on his nerves. That was what he did when he was feeling disadvantaged. "You're missing the point," Tony huffed, "probably because you're not letting me get to the point. I don't suspect you, Lokes."

Loki just looked at him blankly.

"I don't think that you were involved in the hacking," Tony clarified, taking a deep breath. "I trust you more than that. And… it occurred to me that-"

Loki cut him off with an abrupt and spontaneous kiss that ended up tipping them both over on the couch, Loki hovering over him with shining green eyes. "You are such a fool sometimes, Anthony," he murmured in an endearing sort of way.

And, really, only Loki could turn "fool" into a compliment. Tony smirked up at him. "So are you gonna quit being weird then?"

The smile on Loki's face slipped. "Anthony… you know that I care for you, yes?"

Tony blinked. "Uh… I guessed? You know it's not exactly one-sided, right?"

Loki chuckled softly. "I figured," he said dryly.

"What does that have to do with-"

Loki silenced him with another kiss, but his eyes were clouded again. "I… have to leave," Loki said quietly.

Tony frowned. Since when did Loki have to do anything?

"There's a business arrangement that I need to take care of."

Tony blinked and then read through the lines. "You wanted me to know before you left," he guessed before his frown deepened. "Why? Is this dangerous? Loki, what's-"

"I'll come back," Loki said in a very serious tone of voice, one that brokered no argument. "If you're still here, I'll come back."

"Of course I'll still be here." Tony was very confused by this entire conversation. "Loki-"

The trickster cut him off very effectively with his tongue, and by the time they were through Tony was far too exhausted to keep trying to get answers on the subject.

He sincerely regretted that when he woke the next morning to find the other side of the bed empty.

Loki was gone.

Tony collapsed back on the bed, tired and annoyed and wanting coffee, and Natasha picked that exact moment to storm into his room without knocking, eyes hard and dangerous. "There's something you need to see."

Because somewhere along the line, Tony Stark had obviously done something to piss off the gods, and this was their revenge.

He had thought that learning that someone within his own company had betrayed him to Hammer was by far the most shocking thing he'd have to experience in at least a month or two, but when he followed Natasha down to the workshop and saw a familiar insignia spinning on the computer screen, he realized he had been wrong.

Buried in the depths of Hammer's files was the far too familiar symbol that belonged to the Ten Rings.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

"What the fuck?!" Tony yelled, really not caring that he was scaring his robots. "What the absolute fuck, Natasha?!"

"Stark, you need to calm down."

Calm down. Ha! As if! And it wasn't even like he could run away and tell Loki because, oh, yeah, he'd just decided to run off in the middle of the night after almost, sort of, confessing feelings. Sometimes he thought that Loki should have had a degree in drama rather than psychology. "Yeah, that's likely," he snapped at the spy. "What the fuck does the Ten Rings have to do with Hammer?"

"It's the link," Natasha said quietly. "Hammer would have failed long ago, but it seems that they made a deal with what was left of the Ten Rings after… well, after you managed to demolish the majority of their organization. Both of them needed help- the Ten Rings needed legitimacy, Hammer needed shady partners, and both of them needed the help because of you."

"A pair made in heaven," Tony muttered under his breath. He'd caused this. His revenge against the Ten Rings, his constant belittling of Hammer, **his** actions had led them here. And with both organizations perfectly aware of the benefits that could come from stealing his designs, it was really no wonder that that was what they'd decided to do. "Fucking hell," he breathed, the full extent of this unmitigated disaster slamming into him. He slipped into a chair, putting his head in his hands. "Do you have enough evidence to bring to the press?"

Natasha hesitated. "I have evidence that Hammer is in league with the Ten Rings, but they didn't hack you personally. From what I've been able to uncover, that was done by a third party."

Tony nodded. "Right; that was why it was sent to some random disconnected server."

"You can take Hammer down. But there's no guarantee that the freelancer won't just sell what they found to someone else then, and the odds of us finding them if we take down Hammer…."

"Are little to none," Tony sighed. "So we let Hammer and the Ten Rings," he tried not to choke on the name, "keep going until we figure out who they hired. Any leads?"

"It seems they put out a mass contract on the Dark Web," Natasha said with a sigh of her own. "There's really no telling who picked it up; it could literally be anyone, but I'll keep looking."

Tony nodded. "I'll start compiling what we have against Hammer and the Ten Rings for when this is over. I'm still planning on taking them down. Publicly.

She nodded. "I'd expect nothing less."

As Tony settled down at his desk, letting his hands work automatically at compiling all of the evidence Natasha had sent him about Hammer and the Ten Rings, he let his mind drift.

He was to blame. That much was clear from the beginning. It was his bullying of Hammer that pushed them to join with the Ten Rings, and it was his half-assed attempt at destroying the Ten Rings that led them to join with Hammer. All of this was on his own head, and it seemed somewhat karmic that it had resulted in backlashing right at his face. He could almost be alright with the situation if that's all it were, but the new Jericho Missiles had the potential to bring pain and suffering to so many. He had to recover them.

And in order to do that, he had to find the freelancer.

He probably wasn't as surprised as he ought to have been to learn that it was so simple to put up a contract like that, but it did beg some new questions as to who was responsible. It couldn't be Rhodey or Pepper then, could it? It had to be someone he didn't know. A nameless, faceless spy, not so much unlike Natasha but working for the other side. They could have manipulated their way into administrator access through someone, but the point remained that it seemed less likely that someone had betrayed him on purpose. That, at least, was a weight off his shoulders.

Curious, Tony decided to pull up the actual contract through Natasha's files. It wasn't anything flashy. Just a quick description of how they wanted files from Anthony Edward Stark's computers. He thought it moderately strange how they used his full first name like that. The amount of money was somewhat staggering. How the hell could they even afford to pay that much to anyone?

It wasn't until he got to the end that he suddenly had a hard time breathing. At the very end of the contract, following all the information they wanted to be stolen, was another part of the job. The two didn't necessarily have to be carried out by the same person, but they did in order. The files had to be stolen. And then Tony Stark was to be killed.

They wanted him dead.

It probably shouldn't have surprised him nearly as much as it did, but for a moment Tony found himself back in dark, cold caves in Afghanistan, water running into his lungs as he tried everything to keep the battery out of the water- as he tried everything to keep himself alive. They hadn't wanted him dead then. But evidently they did now.

Tony breathed a harsh laugh. "So now that the freelancer has what they wanted from my systems, they're going to come for my head?"

Natasha turned slowly and regarded him with a carefully neutral expression. "You looked at the contract."

"And you didn't plan on telling me?"

"There was no reason for you to be concerned. If and when they arrived, you have a great deal of security as well as my presence."

"And it's easier to protect people when they're not panicked?" Tony guessed, surprising himself with the calm, level tone of his voice.

Natasha nodded slowly. "I wasn't going to let you die, Stark. I still won't."

Tony snorted. "Well, that's good to know at least."

There was a moment of silence. "Where's Loki?"

Tony shrugged. "No idea. He just ran off. Personal issues or something."

Natasha frowned, but the only indication of what she was thinking came in a quiet hum.

"Why? What's up?"

She smiled. "Relax, Stark. I'm not interested in your boyfriend."

Tony let it slide, but he didn't believe that nothing was wrong. Sure, she wasn't interested in Loki, but him disappearing wasn't nothing to her mind either. He wondered if maybe he should start looking into her. After all, she was a freelancer, and maybe she'd gotten to a member of the board before coming to work for him. Still, Coulson had recommended her… maybe he was being paranoid?

Or… maybe he was being suspicious of the wrong person?

No, he couldn't let his mind go there. He'd promised Loki that he trusted him. Tony had let the paranoia influence every other part of his life, every other relationship that he had. He wasn't going to let it screw this one up too.

"Stark, how much do you know about Loki?" Natasha asked him after a moment, and he startled out of his thoughts, looking at her with surprise.

"I… know enough," he stuttered defensively. He didn't like where she was headed with this- almost the same place that he'd been headed thirty seconds previously.

"Enough?" Natasha echoed, sounding dubious. Then she just sighed. "Maybe you should get some sleep, Stark. I'll wake you when I have an idea of who the freelancer is."

Tony shot her one last look before deciding that maybe she was right, taking her advice, and heading upstairs to his bedroom- his empty bedroom.

Down in the workshop, Natasha opened an online chat with some of the administrators who ran the Dark Web contracting section.

I'm looking for whoever took the Stark Bounty. -BW

 **You should know better, Widow. I can't hand out that sort of information. What would my clients say?** -Admin

You owe me. -BW

There was a long pause, and Natasha tapped her fingers impatiently on the keyboard.

The response came, with a code name attached.

Natasha wished that she could have felt a sense of triumph as she read the single line three times.

Thanks, Fury. We're even. -BW

Natasha logged off of the system and pulled out her phone. She had a call to make. And then she had a contract to uphold.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

Loki groaned as his phone went off, the default ringtone echoing in the empty warehouse. He shifted, rolling onto his back as glass crunched underneath his prone form, fishing out his phone and raising it to his ear, biting back a pained sound. "Hello?"

"Loki," Natasha's clip, curt voice came across the line, and Loki tried to focus. This was important. "I need you to answer me one question, and answer me straight."

And that did not bode well for his plans. "Of course, Kat," he said, projecting a great deal of sincerity through his voice even while his eyes remained as cold as ice. "Ask whatever you will; I have nothing to hide."

"After you split ties with Odin," and Loki had to hold back a snarl at the sound of his name, "you told me you were going by a new name in the spy community. You told me the name was Laufeyson. Are you still using that name?"

Loki's mind was racing five hundred miles per hour, and he knew he only had a beat or two to answer the question before Natasha figured out the answer anyway. "On occasion," he finally said cautiously, settling for a mostly neutral response, "why?"

There was a long, cold silence from the other side of the long. "You heartless son of a bitch," Natasha breathed. "I legitimately thought…. Loki, he loves you. And you were the closest to happy I've ever seen. Why would you do this?"

Alarm bells went off in his head, hard, and he pushed himself into a sitting position."Nat, I don't know what-"

"Shut the hell up!" she snapped. "I know you took the contract. You disappeared because you're pulling the information off the server and preparing to sell it. Then what? You come back and finish the second half? Murder him in his sleep? Maybe after you fuck?"

Shit! "Nat, I can explain-"

"You have no right," she growled, "because I'm not wrong, am I?"

Loki dropped the act, and his voice lowered to a growl. "Natasha, listen to me. You cannot tell Stark. I will not be in his presence without you there, but you have to wait until I get back to the mansion. Do you hear me? You fucking **wait**."

"I don't owe you anything, Laufeyson. Stark is my client. He comes first." There was a short beat. "You know, I thought you cared for him." She breathed a short, mirthless laugh. "I suppose you really are the psychopath that Odin raised you to be."

"Don't you dare-"

The line disconnected as Natasha hung up on him.

"Fuck," Loki cursed angrily, throwing his phone against the wall as he struggled to his feet. He had to get back to Malibu before she ruined everything.

Stumbling to his feet, Loki hissed quietly in pain as the action pulled against his bruised ribs. He slowly left the warehouse, glaring at his motorcycle, wishing he drove a car for a brief and irritating moment. Then he hauled himself on the vehicle, gritting his teeth, and set off for Malibu. Maybe Natasha would wait. Maybe she would give him the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe.

Fuck, why couldn't she have just kept her nose out of his business for another week? He had everything planned for, everything figure out, down to the last detail. If she could have just kept her nose out, no one would have ever had to know…. It would have worked out perfectly, and Stark would have been none the wiser about the whole thing. Sure, the mystery would have bothered him for a while. He would have wondered who had betrayed him. But in the end, Loki could have provided plenty of distractions. Anthony would have forgotten all about the whole thing. It would have been fine.

Loki cursed again as he ribs protested the treatment of being forced to ride hours straight through down to Malibu on a motorcycle going far above the speed limit. At this point, he was relying purely on faith that Natasha would wait for him. Just a little longer…. Just fucking wait for me, Natasha.

Loki pulled up in front of the Malibu house and almost fell off the bike as he hurried to get to the door. However, as he let himself into the mansion, he hesitated and his steps slowed. Anthony was standing in the main living area, his back turned as he drank straight from a bottle of whiskey.

That was a bad sign.

"Anthony? I'm back," Loki tried, uncertain. His eyes darted around the room. Where was Natasha?

"Looking for Romanova?" Stark asked, like he could read his mind- a disturbing thought if ever there was one. "I asked her to give me a minute. But if you try anything, she'll kill you."

Well, that answered that question. "Anthony, whatever she told you, I can explain," Loki said carefully, letting a hint of desperation seep into his voice as he took a step closer.

"Don't start!" Stark snapped, turning around to face him. He wasn't drunk, just a little tipsy, but his eyes were red as though he'd been crying. "You lied to me. You betrayed me. And now you're here to kill me."

"No." Loki countered instantly, and, actually, honestly. "I was **not** going to kill you, Anthony."

Stark snorted. "Like hell you weren't. All about the payday for you, isn't it? You're a psychopath. Just like you warned me."

"Anthony, listen to me!" he snapped.

"No, I don't think I will! I think you've completely used up whatever rights you had to have me listen to your side of things when you fucking lied to me, used me, and plotted to kill me!" Stark finally broke, yelling at him.

"TONY!"

There was dead silence in the room for a long moment.

Loki took a deep breath. "I was not coming back to kill you."

"Then why the hell were you coming back?"

"To help you take down Hammer and recover your stolen files."

There was a beat. "What?" Stark finally said, flabbergasted.

"I don't wish to cause World War III any more than you do, Stark," Loki sighed. "If you were to take down Hammer, everything would be negated, the files would be returned-"

"To the military, Loki. The files would be returned to the military," Stark corrected. "And even if they came back to me like nothing had changed, do you honestly think that would have made everything okay? Is that how utterly screwed up your brain is? You still fucking **lied** to me!"

"Everyone lies, Stark," Loki snapped in response, "and it's not as though I had to do much of it. You didn't ask many questions."

"Oh, so this is my fault now?"

"You were a job!" Loki growled. "I met you, I seduced you- it was a contract, and you were a fucking job."

Stark went utterly silent.

"But you were intelligent. And I prefer not to kill legitimately intelligent people. There are far too few of them in this world."

Stark breathed a disbelieving snort. "You cannot be serious right now. You expect me to believe that because I could carry on a conversation with you, you decided that killing me wasn't worth the extra- what, five million dollars?"

"Believe what you will, Stark," Loki finally said wearily. "I wasn't going to kill you."

"But that was the original plan."

He hesitated. "Yes."

"You're a monster," Stark stated flatly.

There was a long pause, a silence so deep that it could be felt falling over the room.

"Oh, Anthony," Loki finally said, quiet and almost sad, "I did warn you."

"Get out of my house," Stark growled. "Get out, and I don't want you to ever come back."

"They'll come for you, Stark," Loki said, needing him to know. "Natasha won't be enough to keep them away. I didn't finish the kill part of the contract; that doesn't mean they want you any less dead." The pain in his ribs was plenty enough proof of that. "Someone else will pick up the contract, and they will come for you. You need protection."

"Get. Out. Of. My. House," Stark repeated, voice low and dangerous, each word further punctuated by the deadly glare that he fixed upon Loki. "NOW!"

Loki took a step back. "Get someone to help you. Natasha is a good start, but you need more." Damn it, he needed to listen!

"Get out!"

And Loki backed out of the house, forcing his body back on the motorcycle. He rode until he could no longer see Anthony's mansion, rode until the last lights had faded into the distant background, and still he rode.

Eventually, when the pain from his ribs grew to be too much to bear, he stopped at a crappy motel and bought a room with cash, slipping unto the uncomfortable bed with a flinch.

Anthony was going to get himself killed. Hammer would send out the contract again, maybe not even going through the Dark Web and Nick Fury. Maybe the Ten Rings would be smarter about it this time. Maybe they'd go straight to Odin. And if they went to Odin, then the job would get done, and it wouldn't matter how many people died. It wouldn't matter how much collateral damage there was.

Loki exhaled shakily. It was just the pain. Of course it was just the pain. It wasn't as though he had actually felt something for Stark. That would require a heart, and he had been reliably informed on quite a few occasions that he didn't have one. Stark had just been a good lay, a decent conversation. He was a nice person to have around for a time, sure, but, in the end, he had just been another job.

Just another job.

Loki huffed an annoyed sigh and forced himself to his feet and to the bathroom to take care of his injuries. Of course, if Stark had just been another job, there would have been no reason for him to have just completed the whole thing, taken the extra five million, and been on his way. In fact, there was every reason for him not to have skipped out the job, and not just having to do with the money.

If Stark were just another random person, there would have been no reason for him to have tried to fix everything. Sure, it wasn't like he was going to back out of the job entirely, but Anthony had sworn that he wasn't going to let them use his new Jericho Missiles… and Loki had decided that he would do what he could to ensure that as well. He could still get his payday, and Stark could keep his conscious clear.

Sometimes there were days that Loki wished he were as good at lying to himself as he were to everyone else.

As it was, he finished wrapping up his wounds, laid down on top of the covers in the cold motel room, and promised himself that he would fix this.

Somehow.

 **End of Act Two**

"Is he going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine. Just give him time and rest, and he'll bounce right back."

Tony woke up to the abhorrently bright fluorescent lights that could really only belong to a hospital room. This was further confirmed by the sterilized white walls and the fact that he wasn't wearing his clothes.

Pepper was standing at the foot of the bed, and her eyes lit up when she saw him. It was clear that she'd been crying. "Oh, Tony!" She threw herself on him in a hug he hadn't expected but slowly returned, pulling back after a moment, slightly embarrassed, and looking down. "I was so afraid that you... I walked in and... You weren't breathing," she whispered, obviously having a hard time finding words.

The events of the past few days came back at Tony hard, but despite the loss and betrayal of Loki hurting terribly, he didn't feel even remotely like killing himself over the guy. He was far more angry at the moment, to be honest. "What the hell happened?" he whispered, finding it difficult to remember what had happened, almost like the memories belonged to another person. What felt very real, however, was the gaping hole in his chest that he refused to acknowledge. Loki was gone. Loki was gone, and that had nothing to do with how difficult it was to breathe or think. He was just... gone.

"The doctor said it was drugs," Pepper said quietly, and Tony dragged himself back to the conversation. "They found sedatives in your bloodstream, and one of the side effects... well-"

"Suicidal tendencies," Tony spat, putting two and two together.

Pepper nodded dully.

"That fucking bastard," Tony growled, low and angry. "Is there any sign of Loki?"

Pepper shook her head, eyes growing cold as ice. "No. All the police in the state are looking for him, Tony. Hell, maybe even in the whole country. He won't make it long."

Except Tony knew that was a lie. Loki was a spy. He'd handled worse heat, Tony was sure, and he would escape and do whatever it was that he was going to do now. Only it didn't make sense. Why had he come back for Tony if he were just going to leave him again? Wouldn't it have been neater just to leave him to his fate?

Tony huffed an annoyed sigh. Loki's behavior was a mess of contradictions, and, no matter how fantastic of an actor he was, Tony refused to believe that it had **all** been a lie. No, some of it had been real. There was no way for it not to have been. But then why had he left? And if it **had** all been a lie, and Tony was just being a naive fool, why did he come back? None of it made sense.

Maybe that was what happened when you fell in love with a psychopath.

"Pepper, can I borrow your phone?"

She handed it over with a puzzled expression. "Who are you calling?"

"Someone who knows the real Loki a lot better than I do," Tony responded softly, dialing the number by memory and pressing send.

 **ACT THREE:**

 **The Prestige**

Seventy-two hours. Seventy-two hours since Natasha had told Tony that Loki had betrayed him. Seventy-two hours since Loki had returned home and confirmed everything from his own lips. Seventy-two hours since Tony's world had fallen apart. Seventy-two hours since Tony had last slept. Seventy-two hours, and Tony didn't feel like he was any closer to being able to deal with what had happened.

Obviously, there was something wrong with him. He'd been able to cope with the idea of Pepper and Rhodey betraying him, but not some one-night stand that had decided to hang around? Loki had been a decidedly bad influence on him, on his life, and he was a self-proclaimed psychopath, not to mention being a goddamned lunatic! And Tony couldn't deal with that? Yeah, talk about unhealthy relationships.

Only, it hadn't even been a fucking relationship. Tony was breaking down over the betrayal of someone that he couldn't even have qualified as his fucking boyfriend. There was definitely something wrong with him.

Thoughts like those, along with trying to think of justifications for Loki's behavior, because apparently he was now the timid house-husband in an abusive relationship, and different ways that this could have all been his fault, ran through his head in a continuous loop as he occupied his hands with busy work. He'd tried to keep his mind elsewhere, but that had nearly resulted in several fires, so he'd resigned himself to being stuck with his thoughts.

In the end, the same thought kept running through his head- it didn't make sense. Sure, maybe at the beginning, Tony could have bought the whole uninterested charade, the idea that he was nothing more than a job, at the beginning. Back when Loki had hung around just for the sex, back when he'd tried to entice Tony into all the dangerous shenanigans he could think of, back when Loki tried to get him out of the house for hours at a time- then Tony could have bought it all. But not now.

Not when Loki had pleaded with Natasha, in her own words, to just give him time, not when he seemed so entirely convinced that he could have fixed everything. No, if he had truly felt nothing, then why wouldn't he just have killed Tony and claimed the money?

The question really was- did that change anything?

Whether Loki genuinely had feelings for Tony or not, he still lied to him, betrayed him, manipulated him, and then thought that he could get away with it and face no consequences in the slightest. Even under the best of circumstances, could Tony forgive that?

He really didn't know.

Huffing an annoyed sigh, Tony finally gave up on his tinkering and promptly headed upstairs for coffee and maybe something stronger. He was dressed in sweatpants and a thin t-shirt through which the arc reactor was plainly visible, but he didn't actually give a damn right then. Natasha wasn't in the house at the moment anyway. She'd temporarily rented a hotel room to give him some space after the whole thing.

Well, actually, Tony had pretty much kicked her out. She seemed to have taken the lying spy's parting words at face value concerning the fact that he supposedly needed protection, but Tony had needed space. His security was the best anyway; it wasn't like there was any chance of someone just bullying his way into the mansion.

Three bottles of vodka later, and Tony was lying prone over the couch, trying to decide whether crying any more was worth it. While sober, he had determined not to shed any more tears over Loki, but when he was drunk, things were a little less clear.

There was a loud crash, suddenly, echoing through the house. Jarvis' voice echoed around him, but Tony couldn't seem to focus on the words. A massive hand clamped down over his mouth with the weight of a truck, and suddenly there was only darkness.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

Loki had been going to leave town. There was really no longer a reason for him to stay, and there was every reason for him to leave. Natasha had screwed up everything when it came to Stark, and Anthony himself had made it perfectly clear that he simply wasn't interested in hearing whatever explanations Loki might have had to offer. Not that he actually had any that weren't lies. In truth, he was everything Anthony had accused him of being and worse.

He was a monster.

But he'd learned to embrace that a long time ago.

So he was going to leave. After a quick stop at the storage unit he'd been renting out during his time in Malibu, he had the few possessions he actually cared to bring with him, some particular knives and an untraceable gun among other things, and was ready to put some clothes on the back of his motorcycle and just leave. Maybe he'd go back to the United Kingdom for a while, pick up another contract with MI6. Maybe he'd just stay freelancer. He didn't know and it didn't really matter.

What did matter was that he needed to get out of town. Hammer and the Ten Rings had already paid him for the half of the contract he'd actually done, and he could use that money to disappear, maybe buy himself some protection for a little while.

He scowled down at the hotel bed where he had spent the last few days, preparing everything for his departure. Amora had been right last time he'd spoken with her. People like them couldn't survive out in the cold; they made far too many enemies. That was the purpose of benefactors, and Loki had none.

Hammer had offered that- protection, the freedom to stay in the country, security from the All-Father's ever extending reach, but now it was all gone. Loki was positive that, along with the bruised ribs, the Ten Rings also would have left notice with one of Odin's lackeys that Loki was in the state. Everyone who knew anything in the criminal underworld knew who Odin was, and everyone who knew Odin knew that he was looking for his wayward son.

Half the people with whom Loki worked still called him Odinson. Even though the name made him want to claw someone's eyes out, he had to admit that the reputation that went along with it came in handy on occasion.

It still wasn't worth the price.

Loki had been planning to leave, his duffel bag packed and slung over his shoulder, when the phone call came.

The burner phone was resting on the crappy hotel bed. He hadn't been going to take it with him, and he was almost out the door when the irritatingly repetitive ringtone started playing in the small room.

He nearly just walked away, but something compelled him to turn around. Something made him pick up the phone, answering with a curt, "What do you want?"

The voice on the other end was not who he expected. "Loki," Natasha snapped, "where are you?"

"Why on earth would I tell you?" he responded, surprised and trying to keep his voice fairly neutral. He hadn't expected to hear from her again for years to come, much less half a decent conversation, but whatever anger she had towards him she was keeping carefully under locks. It didn't bode well.

"Are you still in the state, at least?" she growled, annoyed with his run-around tactics.

Loki knew that tone, and there was probably more harm to be had in not telling her than in just answering the question. "Yes. Why?"

"Stark is gone."

Loki's blood ran cold.

"He kicked me out of the house for some peace and quiet, or so he claimed. Personally, I think he just wanted to break down without an audience. Jarvis called me two hours ago. Someone screwed with his systems, but he has security footage of the abduction. Someone just walked in and took him, Loki."

Took him, Loki's brain helpfully focused on those words. They meant he was still alive. "Send me the footage. I'll find him," Loki said curtly, because that was all that mattered at that moment. He had to find him.

His phone vibrated with an incoming video seconds later, and he opened it, squinting at the poor quality as it was rendered on his shitty phone. Still, despite the quality, Loki recognized the kidnapper as soon as he walked through the door. He would have known that hulking shape of a man anywhere. The real question was- how the hell had he gotten here so soon? Hammer could only have posted the contract back up a day ago, at most.

Unless he had already been planning on killing Anthony.

Shit.

The truth hit Loki hard. Apparently, Natasha wasn't the only one who had been watching him and Anthony during their days together, nor was she the only one who had thought Loki looked genuinely happy. This was revenge, plain and simple. And Anthony was caught in the crossfire.

"Fuck," Loki cursed aloud before forcing himself to calm down. He knew who had taken Anthony- that was a good thing. It gave him much better odds at finding where they were being held. And then he noticed the time stamp. Obviously, Jarvis had been incredibly screwed up. It had taken him two days to alert Natasha about the abduction. Loki felt his blood chill even further. Anthony had been in the hands of that psychopath for two days. He had to find him.

While he pulled out his laptop and started searching, he wondered briefly if maybe he should ask Natasha for help. But no- he wasn't going to do that. Too many questions would be asked, and he wasn't particularly interested in dealing with her at the moment. This was just about getting in, getting Anthony, and getting out- no fancy tricks, and, hopefully, he wouldn't even have to face the perpetrator.

Deep down, though, Loki knew better.

He watched the blurry footage again, watching the way that the massively tall blond man stormed across the room towards the very drunk Anthony. Loki watched his huge hand clamp down on Anthony's mouth, watched him inhale the chloroform that was on the cloth on his palm, and watched him carry Anthony out of the house.

Thor Odinson.

The name rang rather like a curse in Loki's mind as he watched the loop again, drawing urgency from the video. Thor wanted revenge. He wanted revenge for Frigga, and he would do whatever he wished with Anthony- just to make Loki hurt.

Loki was done being hurt.

It didn't take him as long as he feared to pin down Thor's location. The brute was as unsubtle as ever, and once he got access to the city's traffic camera's, finding the abandoned factory near the beach where Thor had ended up was almost too easy.

Loki looked down at the supplies he had. A set of a dozen throwing knives, specially made for him alone, a single handgun with three clips and a silencer, and his wits in order to take down an opponent with more brute strength, more resources, and the advantages of home ground, not to mention having a hostage.

This was going to be a piece of cake.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

The first thing Tony noticed when he slowly drifted back into consciousness was that thinking was very, very difficult. Worse than a hangover could justify, really. Also, there was this pressure on his wrists, but when he tried to move to rub at them, he found himself unable.

Then he actually woke up.

He was in an abandoned factory, by the looks of it, hanging down from the ceiling by thick iron chains- chains that were currently in the danger of breaking his wrists. He wrapped his hands around the length of them and pulled himself up to relieve the pressure for a few moments at a time. His body strained from the effort, and Tony knew that this was going to wear him out quickly, which was, undoubtedly, the purpose.

Even before the impromptu workout, his brain still felt muddled, and, having surprisingly good recollection concerning the events that had occurred before he'd passed out, he took a wild guess that drugs were to blame. That pissed him off a fair amount. He really didn't like it when people pumped unknown chemicals into his system; only he was allowed to do that to himself.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the empty building, and Tony forced himself to look up and focus as his kidnapper swarmed into view.

The guy was very tall, heavily muscled, and was wearing a red tank-top. His blond hair was tied up in a ponytail, and he wore regular jeans with that. The sharp blue of his eyes maybe could have looked kind under different circumstances, but at the moment they raged with a burning heat that could rival the sun.

"Hello, Stark," he rumbled a greeting. "My name is Thor Odinson. You may have heard of me?"

Tony had, but he tried not to let it show. Not Thor personally, of course, but he knew about Odin. The guy went by the All-Father; he worked as a criminal contractor, basically, setting up people with money and needs with those who could and would do anything for a paycheck, or maybe even just for a challenge. He'd heard whispers about him having sons, but nothing in particular.

Still, Tony couldn't just give in to the fear like that, so he tried a smirk. "Hammer guy who makes thunder? Yeah, your name may have come up a few times."

Thor growled and backhanded Tony.

And that was how it started.

By this point, Tony was an exhausted, bloody wreck, the random wooden boards on the wall behind him stained with his life blood. He had no idea how long he'd been missing, no clue how Thor had managed to circumvent his security, and his mind kept drifting off to Jarvis back home. He wondered what they would do to him if he died.

Also, with increasing regularity, he thought about Loki. Sometimes he'd picked him storming in to save him, as preposterous as that seemed. Sometimes he'd dream about shooting him; sometimes about Loki putting a bullet in Stark's head. And then, somewhere along the line, he made himself a promise. If he somehow managed to survive this again, if he ever saw Loki after he got out of the situation whether on earth, in heaven, or in hell, Tony promised that he would listen to Loki, that he'd hear him out. Because, in the end, life was short. And Tony being happy was such an incredibly rare thing.

He had no idea how long he'd been hanging there when the door opened. All he knew is that he thought he were dreaming again when he saw a tall, dark figure slip out of the shadows.

When Loki loosed his chains, his wrists having gone numb long ago, and Tony fell to the ground, eyes glazed over and only half open, he was still convinced that it wasn't real. And that was probably why it somehow made sense to his pain-addled mind when Loki started to talk.

"Anthony," he whispered, sounding so broken right at that moment, which, yeah, even drugged Tony could tell that that wasn't right. Loki didn't sound broken. He sounded proud and wise and strong. He was a snarky, sarcastic smart-alec. He shouldn't sound so close to tears. "This is all my fault…."

"Hello, Brother," a strong, loud voice boomed across the abandoned room, and Tony flinched away from the voice because that voice meant pain.

Loki's grip on him tightened. "I'm not your brother, Thor."

"No," Thor agreed, "not anymore."

"Torture isn't like you," Loki continued, voice boiling with barely contained rage.

"No, it's not, is it? Father always left that to you, but I think I managed to pick up a few of your tricks."

Loki growled low in his throat, his composure slipping. "He wasn't involved in this."

"You refused the second half of the contract. It was free for anyone. I just took it first."

"You were planning this ahead of time. You were watching us."

"I was watching you. Father still wants you back- even after what you did."

"But you were more interested in revenge," Loki noted dully.

"You deserved to feel pain, Loki," Thor growled. "The kind of pain that comes from watching someone that you love die. Of course, I don't believe that you're capable of true love, but whatever attachment you've formed to him will have to suffice."

Loki started laughing, his entire body shaking against Tony's, who was still having a hard time comprehending the conversation that was taking place around him. "You think I don't know that pain? Do you honestly think I loved her any less than you, Thor? Are you truly so naive? He took everything from me!" Loki screamed, and Tony flinched away from the sound. It was the voice of a madman.

" **You killed her!** " Thor boomed loudly, voice echoing off the metal walls.

But before the conversation could continue or Loki could respond, a needle suddenly protruded out of Thor's neck and he abruptly stumbled and fell, revealing a small shadow standing behind him.

Loki looked at the figure stoically. "Natasha."

"Loki."

There was a moment of silence where the two spies simply evaluated one another.

"Is he dead?"

"No. Do you want him to be?"

"Not by your hand."

Another beat.

"We should get Anthony back to the mansion," Loki suggested, voice quiet.

Natasha nodded and walked over to help carry him between them.

Tony drifted in and out of awareness, not even registering the following conversation on a conscious level.

"You really weren't going to kill him," Natasha commented quietly.

"No."

"I should have believed you."

"I wouldn't have."

"Do you love him?"

There was a beat. "What do you think?"

Natasha snorted. "You're both emotionally stunted morons."

"And therefore a perfect fit?" Loki questioned bemusedly, drawing a short laugh from Natasha.

"I really don't know what you two are, but I know that I doubt either one of you is going to find happiness anywhere else. So don't you dare just let him go."

"I wasn't planning on it," Loki said quietly. "Not now."

Another beat. "Is Odin your father?"

"No," Loki spat vehemently,, and then suddenly sighed, sounding incredibly tired. "He killed my parents; claimed me as a prize a few years later when he realized that I had potential. Raised me as an assassin."

"So when you used to say that you were born for this job…?"

"Private joke," Loki confirmed.

"Why was Thor so mad?"

"I left. And not under the best of circumstances. Someone died. Thor blames me."

"Are you to blame?"

"That would depend entirely on your perspective. I'm far from innocent."

Natasha hummed.

Tony wasn't sure when they had even moved him to a car, much less gotten him back inside the house, but suddenly there was a warm, comfortable bed under his body, and he was laid down gently on his own pillow.

"Is he going to be okay?" Natasha asked quietly.

"The wounds are mostly superficial," Loki sighed. "Meant to cause more pain than lasting damage. There was no reason to make it last; he was planning on killing him anyway."

"I'll leave you two alone then. God knows you're going to have a lot to discuss when he wakes up."

"They won't stop," Loki murmured quietly. "They won't stop coming for him."

"We'll figure something out."

The sound of departing footsteps traveled to Tony's eyes, followed by the click of a door shutting. A warm body slipped into the bed behind him, and Tony let himself relax in familiar arms.

"Rest, Stark," Loki whispered. "I'll be here in the morning."

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

It took Tony a while to piece back the conversation that had occurred while he'd been half asleep, but he managed it. It took him a while to calm down after waking up with Loki's arms around him, like nothing at all had happened between them, but that had been managed too. And he kept his promise.

Loki may not have had excuses, but Tony was really starting to believe that maybe the spy loved him. Maybe Tony had been right after all, and Loki did have a heart.

It was, Tony thought, a remarkable amount of progress to have made in two days.

Still, Loki was distant. Not physically- physically, he seemed to always be in contact with Tony, almost like he was afraid of them being pulled apart. Tony supposed that maybe finding him in the condition he'd been in had been a shock for the spy. As for Tony himself, well, he'd had worse. Regardless, Loki had been incredibly tactile for the forty-eight hours since his rescue, almost clingy. Not that Tony was complaining.

No, it wasn't physically that Loki was pulling away. It was emotionally. There were walls slowly climbing back up and up and up and Tony didn't know what to do about it. It was like he was steeling himself for something. Tony just wished he knew why.

Or maybe he didn't.

It was the middle of the night, two days since Tony's rescue, and quite a few conversations in attempts to mend their relationship, when Tony woke to find Loki's warmth missing from behind him. Sure, maybe they shouldn't still have been sharing the same bed considering neither of them really trusted the other- in theory, of course, because Tony was pretty sure that in practice he'd never actually stopped trusting Loki- but it was habit at this point.

In fact, the presence of Loki behind him was so common that with it missing, Tony found himself unable to sleep. Frowning, he pulled himself out of bed, throwing on some thin sleepwear, and wandering out into the main living area. Loki was sitting at the table, writing a letter.

Tony's frown deepened. "Lokes?" he asked drearily. "It couldn't wait?"

Loki looked up sharply, eyes flashing dangerously before softening considerably. "Anthony. Go back to bed."

"Come with me."

"In a minute. I need to finish this."

And Tony almost did as he was told, but something in the other man's tone stopped him. "What's with the letter? You may not have heard, but we have these things called computers now that let us communicate much quicker over long distances."

Loki's lips tilted up, but, lame though the joke may have been, the reaction was incredibly docile. Something was clearly going on. "It's not important," Loki lied. "Go back to bed."

"No," Tony refused outright this time. "At least tell me who it's for."

There was a pause.

"And don't lie to me," Tony warned. "I'm getting a lot better at telling."

"Yes," Loki mused. "You really are. Or perhaps I've just stopped trying so hard."

That gave Tony pause. "Loki, what's going on?"

"The letter is for you," Loki said quietly, exhaling heavily and then handing to him.

Tony read it once. And then he read it again. It didn't make any more sense the second time around, nor the third. "What the hell, Loki?" he demanded, fear and anger coiling in his belly the more and more he read the half-finished letter. He looked up sharply, eyes narrowed. "What do you mean your leaving?"

Loki took a breath, and suddenly his eyes were cold as ice. "Exactly what I said, Anthony. I trust that reading a simple letter isn't above you."

"You can't leave."

"I am."

"Why?" Tony finally breathed, slipping down to a seated position at one of the chairs. He couldn't bring himself to care that he was putting himself at a disadvantage. It hadn't taken him all that long to realize that he was always at a disadvantage when it came to Loki.

There was a beat. "Because I'm done, Stark." And, no, his voice was all kinds of wrong; why was he doing this? "I'm done pretending to be your perfect boyfriend. I got what I needed; I even got what I wanted. I stuck around because I wanted a challenge, Stark. I thought that tricking you into trusting me again, after everything… well, surely you weren't that gullible. Obviously, I was wrong."

Tony couldn't believe what he was hearing. The words wouldn't even register. "You're lying."

"Always," Loki said with a cruel smirk, moving away.

Tony watched helplessly as Loki moved towards the door. "Why are you doing this?" he pleaded, hating how helpless he sounded, abhorring the pathetic words as they left his lips. "What did I do?" he whispered, almost fearing the answer.

Loki didn't turn around. "Don't make this about you," he said coldly, and Tony tried not to flinch away from the words. "Not everything in this world revolves around the great Anthony Edward Stark."

Tony tried to stand but found that his legs had no strength, instead sliding down from the chair to his knees on the floor. It was a convenient position, a part of him thought, considering he was about to beg. "Please," he tried, remembering how Loki had first reacted to that word. "Please don't go." Pride was a thing long forgotten- all that mattered right now was that Loki needed to turn around. He just had to turn around.

The taller man didn't move- neither towards nor away from Tony. "Stop, Stark. You're only making a fool of yourself."

"Just turn around!" Tony yelled, finally getting his voice back. "Just fucking look at me!"

"Why should I bother?" Loki said first, and then huffed a sigh, as if this entire thing was a massive waste of his time, before turning. He knelt slightly to be eye-level with Tony, so that the inventor could look into his frozen green eyes. "Listen, Stark, it was fun while it lasted, but I've never been a fan of people I could manipulate that easily," Loki told him loftily before standing, turning away again. "Really, you're just pathetic. The sex, at least, was decent."

"No," Tony whispered, horrified by the emptiness he had seen in his lover's eyes. "This isn't you. You wouldn't-"

"The really ironic thing is that I told you," Loki continued mercilessly. "I told you that I was insane. I told you that I was a psychopath. But you didn't listen, did you? Kept thinking you could fix me." His voice wavered for a split second, and he had to pause to steady himself. "I didn't want your help, Stark," he growled, the anger far too tangible, "and I don't need to be fixed. I'm not one of your projects." He started walking again, and this time he made it to the door frame.

"I didn't want to fix you," Tony whispered, no longer on his knees, but now completely fallen down to the floor, reaching out for the man who had just cut him deeper than any blade. "I love you the way you are."

Loki froze, and for a moment, Tony thought that maybe he was going to turn around. Maybe the self-proclaimed psychopath would turn around pull Tony up into his arms, whisper his name and confess that this had all been some kind of test. He thought maybe he would look up into the warm eyes of the man that he loved.

But then Loki grew stiff again. "Then, clearly, you love the man who did nothing but use you, manipulate you, and cared for you less than a child cares for their prized doll. Like I said- pathetic."

Tony was still staring at him from his position on the floor, still reaching out to him, but his eyes were so fogged with tears that he could barely even see the taller man anymore.

Thus, he failed to see how Loki turned just slightly, almost looking over his shoulder. He missed the tears blooming in the green eyes as the raven haired man finished his speech, and he missed how Loki's shoulders sagged as he finally forced himself to leave the room.

All Tony saw was his retreating figure and the door closing behind him; all he could do was put his face down in the carpet and sob.

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

Loki had to struggle not to flat-out flee from Anthony's property. There were tears blooming in his eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall. He hadn't cried since he was just a child enduring Odin's beatings, and he had sworn back then that he would never show such weakness again. But, really, had he ever had a weakness quite like Anthony?

He checked the address on his phone, exhaling heavily. It had been difficult to manage to set up the meeting in such a short amount of time, only two days, and a part of Loki had wanted to make it last longer. He'd wanted to drag it out, to take his time, to spend more time with the man that he fucking loved, but every moment wasted was another moment Tony's life was in danger. Every moment he delayed was another chance for some other monster- monster like him- to take the contract and come to kill him.

So there was no delaying.

Loki got on his bike and sped away from the house, driving through dark, twisted alleyways and back roads until he found himself at the designated meeting place.

It was an abandoned high school football field, which struck him as both unusual and a bit dramatic, but it hadn't been him who picked the meeting point.

He walked out onto the field, trying not to flinch away from the wide open space. It went against everything in his training, every bone in his body, to put himself in such a defenseless position, but he kept repeating like a mantra in his mind, "Do it for Anthony," and those words seemed to give him strength.

As he neared the center of the field, he saw figures approaching from the other end, and the red dot of a sniper rifle appeared on his chest. He sighed slightly, expecting nothing less.

Odin and Thor approached him, the former moving forward like a king, his eyes looking disdainfully down at Loki as though he were a dog coming to beg for scraps. Thor moved a few paces behind him, a snarl on his face that looked entirely unbecoming.

Loki had a flash of nostalgia for the young, far more innocent boy that he had once caught wandering the streets alone. That Thor never would have followed Odin so blindly. For all that fate had done to him, never one had Loki been able to regret the day that he and Thor had met. He wondered if perhaps that would change this time around.

"You requested a meeting," Odin stated flatly, as though he hadn't been searching endlessly for Loki since he had run, as though his eyes weren't already gleaming with bloodlust at the thought of having him back.

"I did," Loki said carefully before taking a deep breath. "I wish to make a deal."

Odin arched an eyebrow. "And what deal could you possibly offer me? All that you are is already mine."

Loki ground his teeth but forced himself to ignore that statement. "I am aware that you could take me right now, stick me in the back of one of your cargo planes, and never let me see the light of day again." Oh, he was very aware. "But that's not really what you want."

"Isn't it?" Odin mused. "I think Thor would be perfectly happy with that arrangement."

"Since when do you give a damn about what Thor thinks?" Loki said, harshly, but honestly. "You don't want a prisoner; you could have as many of those as you please. You haven't been hunting me this long because you wanted to lock me away. You want me back. I have a reputation. I'm goodat this. And you want me back."

Odin looked displeased with the assumption, but he didn't challenge it.

"You'll never convince me to do anything I don't want to do. I think you know that. You never broke me before, and you won't now." Loki wished he believed the words he were saying, but it didn't matter if he believed them. It only mattered that Odin did. Just like with the words he'd said to Anthony.

"And you're quite certain of that, are you?" Odin mused quietly, darkly.

Loki had to restrain a shudder. "Even if I'm wrong, by the time you break me, I'll be useless to you." Now that, he believed. "So I'm offering you a bargain."

Odin sighed as though this were all a great hassle that was beneath him. "I'm listening."

"You let Anthony go, you call off every contract on him, and I will come work for you."

There was dead silence in the field for a moment. Then Odin burst out laughing. "You cannot be serious! You're offering me your freedom in exchange for some boy? You really are nothing more than a whore in the end."

Loki clenched his jaw but said nothing.

Odin regarded him a moment longer. "Agreed. Come." And he turned and started walking away.

Loki was floored. "What? Just… just like that?"

"Had you hoped I would refuse?" Odin asked, bemused. "Are you coming or not?"

"You'll call off the contract? All of them? You'll do whatever you have to do to protect him?" Loki asked again. Odin had the power to keep Tony safe from any criminal influence on the planet, if he would only use it.

"Yes, yes. Now come. The plane's waiting."

Loki froze for a beat. This was his freedom. Odin was taking him back to the hell that he had spent his entire life trying to escape, and he was going along willingly. He was giving up everything, becoming the monster that Anthony had accused of being once again. But he was doing it for Anthony. He couldn't walk away now.

"Are you coming, boy?" Odin snapped impatiently.

This time, Loki had an answer. "I…. Yes, sir."

And Odin smiled. "Good boy."

Like he was a fucking dog.

The ride to the small airport was done in silence with Thor glaring daggers the entire time. Occasionally, Odin would make a jibe, but Loki endured it in silence. There was much worse coming, he knew.

For Anthony.

The airport was surprisingly deserted- not only was there no staff, but also very little security. It looked rushed, and Loki felt a small sense of satisfaction that he'd made Odin run at his call- even if it were just so that he could sell himself.

They were almost to the plane, walking down the narrow hallway that led to the boarding area, when it happened.

"Thor isn't happy about this, you know," Odin commented on his true son's silence. "You did, after all, kill his mother."

And Loki stopped dead in the hallway, sudden images flashing through his mind. He saw Frigga, standing before him, proud, tall, and beautiful. He felt her hand on his face, the only person whose touch had ever meant kindness. And then he saw the fire, the flames leaping up around her. And he heard her screams.

His hands clenched into fists.

"I've been so afraid of you for so long," Loki whispered with his eyes locked on the floor, his words causing both Odin and Thor to stop and turn to look at him, "but what more can you really take from me?"

"Do not presume to-" Odin's words were suddenly cut off as Loki pulled a knife from one of his hiding places and threw it straight into his throat. A strange, gurgling sound emanated from his mouth as he began to choke on his own blood, collapsing.

Thor let out a strangled cry and charged Loki, enraged, but Loki deftly stepped out of his way, using Thor's strength and anger against him and slamming him into the wall. He grabbed another hidden knife and plunged it into the back of Thor's knee, effectively downing the man as he cried out in pain. Liberating his gun from his so-called brother, Loki leveled it at his face. "If you move, I will not hesitate," he vowed before turning back to Odin.

The older man was still alive, eyes gazing up pleadingly at the boy he had once called, but never actually considered, his son.

Loki's eyes were cold and without remorse. "I was afraid of you for so long," he mused, "but really, what was there to fear? You're just another man- flesh and blood." He dragged his fingers through the blood that was running out over his clothes. "I could always have made you bleed." And then Loki pulled the knife out of his throat, the blood spray covering his clothes, and he plunged it into Odin's chest.

The man jerked once, twice, and then abruptly stopped moving.

"You killed him," Thor whispered, quiet and shocked.

"Yes, I did. But know this, Thor, and listen well- I did not kill Frigga. She threatened to expose Odin and all that he had done, and he had her killed," Loki finally spoke the truth. "If you truly wish to honor her memory, you will do as she wished to do before her death and bring down the organization you were raised to rule." Loki walked over to Thor and pulled the knife out as he groaned. "I'm letting you live for that sole purpose. If you ignore it, I will come for you."

Loki turned and started to leave.

"Loki," Thor called after him, pale and weary.

Loki paused.

"He had better be worth it."

Loki grinned, the smile sharp and deadly while he looked at Thor, his clothes covered in his father's blood. "Oh, trust me- he is."

 **(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)**

Tony exhaled heavily, leaning back in his chair as he watched the news. The rest of the world was being caught up, in a way, with the events of Tony's life, and he found their perspective on things fairly amusing.

It had been three weeks since Loki had walked out the door, spouting words that Tony still couldn't think about without causing his chest to tighten in pain. It was those actions, combined with the residue of the sedatives that so-called fucking Thor had used to keep him compliant, that had pushed Tony to attempt to kill himself, resulting him in landing in the hospital. And it was from the hospital that he had called Natasha.

He doubted he would ever forget that conversation for as long as he lived.

Requiring very little convincing, Natasha had explained Loki's situation- or as much as she knew. She knew that his parents had been killed by this underworld king when he was a kid, this psychopath who called himself Odin. After that, Loki had bounced around foster care, always running away from the homes where he was placed. Then, and Natasha wasn't sure how this had come about, Odin had apparently gotten interested in Loki again and "adopted" the kid as his own.

Loki had been trained as an assassin, but training at Odin's hands had resulted in a lot of torture. Tony remembered the scars that had covered the assassin's body and tried not to flinch. He'd been fourteen the first time he killed someone at Odin's command, shooting a woman in the head with a sniper rifle from across the street. According to Natasha, he'd been a natural; it was the only way he could have made the shot.

From then on, his reputation continued, and Loki and Thor became well known as the Odinsons. Thor was trained to take over the criminal empire after Odin's demise. Loki was the assassin, the hunter in the dark. Loki was feared; Thor was respected. But then something happened.

Odin had been married, Natasha said, to a sweet woman named Frigga. How that had come about, Natasha had no idea, in fact, no one did, but somehow this beautiful, sweet, good woman had ended up married to one of the worst pieces of humanity ever to exist. And then she died. Frigga passed away in a fire that was lit under suspicious circumstances. The culprit was never found, but it was rumored that it had to be an inside job.

Natasha said that Thor blamed Loki. She also said that she was nearly positive it had been Odin.

After the phone call, Tony had been even more conflicted. It was pure egotism for Loki to blame himself for what Thor had done to Tony, which was precisely why Tony was pretty sure that was the case. Loki was a control freak- it was probably easier for him to blame himself than to admit there was nothing he could have done to stop it. But why would leaving have helped? None of it added up.

At least, it didn't make sense until he watched the local news from his bed while the hospital held him for observation.

There had been a murder at a small, private airport. There was no staff, no witnesses, and the crime scene had been scrubbed, but the body had been identified as Odin Borson, the son of a now-deceased politician from England with roots in Scandinavia. Apparently, the cause of death was stab wound to the heart, but he had also bled out a significant amount from another puncture wound to his neck- like a wound made by a dagger.

From there, it hadn't been too hard to figure things out with some help from Natasha.

By the time he got back from the hospital, Nat assured him that all contracts on his head had been removed. Whatever Loki had done had worked. Giving him a surprisingly friendly hug, the spy had left to go back to whatever it was she did between jobs, whispering in his ear as she departed, "Don't give up on him."

Tony was pretty sure that he hadn't been the one to do the giving up.

He spent the next few days compiling everything that he had on Hammer into a presentation and taking it to the press. The following week was hell for more than a few reasons, but he and the company managed to survive. In the process, Tony was pretty sure he'd managed to mend a few of his bridges with Pepper. He was quite certain that their relationship would never be what it had been, but he had his friend back. It was good enough for him, really.

Rhodey had wanted to hear the whole story, from the beginning, twice. Tony had really had no choice but to oblige him. It wasn't like he could leave the house anyway; the press was everywhere since his little whistle-blowing routine. It was Rhodey who had insisted that Tony needed more and better protection. It was Rhodey who had started looking into private security companies.

Tony let him do it. He was lucky to still have his best friend after all of this.

Hammer was gone, but the Ten Rings were still out there, and Tony found himself waking up more and more frequently from terrible nightmares. He wouldn't be able to sleep soundly, no matter how much protection Rhodey got him, until the Ten Rings were gone.

It was barely a day later when the first report hit.

Someone was systematically attacking the Ten Rings' bases, one by one. According to news reports, eyewitnesses claimed it was just a single person, but the press was having a hard time buying it. How could one person be causing this much damage? The assailant managed to keep from getting caught on camera, and his weapons of choice were either a silenced gun or throwing knives.

That was Tony's first clue.

His second had come when a lucky camera shot had managed to catch the "Phantom", as they were calling him, in a struggle with a member of the Ten Rings. His face was blocked, but the man was thin and lithe, he was wearing black, and his long black hair was really more than enough for Tony to identify him.

It was Loki.

Loki was cleaning up his mess, Tony realized, stunned. He had gone all the way to Afghanistan, even though he hated to fly, and now he was taking out the Ten Rings, one base at a time.

Tony started waiting for the news reports with baited breath. He was one man; surely he couldn't take down the entire organization. He was going to get himself killed. But report after report flowed in as Loki made his way across the country, and never once was the news of the Phantom's death or discovery.

Then, suddenly, there was silence. Tony tried not to think the worst, but there didn't seem to be many other places for his mind to go. Days passed, and Tony was beginning to lose hope.

The next report was about how the central base of the Ten Rings had been discovered completely demolished. It seemed that it had been nestled into a low valley and that it had a self-destruct program that had been activated prematurely. The entire base had collapsed on top of everyone inside it. There were, of course, rumors that the Phantom had been to blame, but no one had any proof.

Tony had smiled grimly at the picture of the collapsed base and raised a glass in a silent salute to Loki. They may have had their differences- hell, Tony was still half-convinced that if he ever saw the guy again he was going to try and punch him right in his snarky mouth- but this was personal to him, and Loki had known it. In fact, it might have even been an apology.

Life returned to normal, and pretty soon there was only one loose end that hadn't been tied up.

Hammer had been put away, his entire company shut down and his servers swept over and over again, but there had been no sign of any of the more sensitive designs that had been stolen from Tony, including the New Jericho Missile plans.

Tony spent days trying to track them down, trying to figure out where Hammer could have hidden them. He spent hours staring at a blank computer screen. Pepper claimed he was hiding from his problems with Loki, hiding from the real world, but the real world could wait. The plans couldn't have just disappeared. And as for Loki, well, the Ten Rings had been finished days ago, and there was still no word. If the spy had been planning to return, he would have done it by now.

Tony was just going to have to let him go.

The plans, though, those he had to find.

"You're getting obsessed, Tony," Pepper scolded him, quiet and stern.

"They didn't fall into the military hands," Rhodey said scathingly, "isn't that what you were trying to avoid?"

Even Jarvis felt the need to chime in, "Sir, it is nearly thirty-six hours since the last time you slept. You need to leave the workshop."

Tony ignored them all. He wasn't obsessed. He just… needed to find those plans.

It had nothing to do with his sneaking suspicion that Loki had been the one to get them out of Hammer's hands. It had nothing to do with the theory that Loki had kept the plans out of the hands of the military too. That was absurd. Not only would Loki not have spent his time on that, but Tony was moving on. Really, he was.

Don't give up on him.

He wasn't. This wasn't giving up. This was taking a goddamn hint.

Only it really wasn't, because even after everything, he was still looking for the spy. Tony knew that Loki wouldn't be found unless he desired to be, and yet a part of him was still clinging to the hope that maybe, deep down, Loki did want Tony to find him.

And that was why, when he got the first message, he didn't even hesitate.

Back at the beginning. -Unknown

Tony had sat up bolt straight and stared at the message for a good five minutes, as though he could make the phone give him the name of the sender through sheer force of will.

 **Who is this?** -TS

He waited a beat.

 **Loki?** -TS

There was no response. Later, he tried calling the number, but the phone claimed it had been disconnected.

Tony swore.

Still… who but Loki would have sent him something like that?

Then it was a puzzle. A riddle. But what did it mean? The first place he and Loki had met, at the nightclub, maybe? But why, what was the point? What was he supposed to find there?

Ignoring common sense, Tony got in his car and went back to the same dull club, walking through the doors. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Something. Maybe another hint, maybe a bag being stuck over his head, maybe even Loki sitting at the bar as though nothing had happened at all. Yeah, that one seemed his style.

But there was nothing.

Tony went and sat at the bar, picking a seat at random, and he ordered a drink, looking around. He waited for three hours, but there was no Loki.

Maybe it was just like the first time Loki had texted him and told him to go somewhere. Maybe he just had to be patient.

Tony's brow furrowed suddenly, and he checked the time stamp on the text. He hadn't been sleeping lately anyway, so time meant very little for him. He had no idea when it had arrived.

The time stamp read exactly 3am, just like the first text Loki had ever sent him. Maybe the text didn't mean the very beginning, Tony thought excitedly. He practically ran out of the nightclub and climbed in his car, speeding off down the highway until he eventually pulled off in front of the club called Hel's Paradise.

Slowly, he got out of the car, his nerve and excitement deserting him at the last moment. What if Loki wasn't there? What if nothing was there? Maybe it had been a wrong number. Maybe it had just been Loki screwing with him. Maybe… but there was no way to know unless he went inside.

Taking a deep breath, Tony walked into the club and looked around. It wasn't too crowded, but neither was it empty, and no one really paid him any attention. He spun around in a complete circle, looking for something, anything, that looked like Loki.

There were a bunch of smaller rooms around the edge of the main area, and each room was named something cheesy, but one of the names caught his mind- Full Circle.

Back to the beginning.

As if drawn by an invisible force, Tony moved towards the room, opening it cautiously. No one was there. But, sitting on the table in the middle of the private area surrounded by booths was a note and a memory card.

Tony grabbed the memory card and plugged it into his phone, eyes widening as the plans for his Jericho Missiles and several other dangerous weapons filed up on the screen. Then he looked down at the note.

Written in handwriting that could only belong to one person was a single, short line of text. It was only three words, words that continued ringing over and over in Tony's head as he drove home that night, words that haunted his dreams.

I'm sorry, Anthony.

 **End of Act Three**

 **Epilogue:**

Tony stared at himself in the mirror. Gods, he hated these formal meetings. Their security was fine; it wasn't like they needed to hire this fancy-ass private company to give them a hand. It had been six months since the abduction, and it wasn't even like that had been done from a Stark Industries building. Thor had taken Tony from his own goddamn house. The memory of it made him flinch slightly, and he had to keep his hands from rubbing at his wrists where the scars of the chains still remained. Instead, he slowly clenched his hands into fists and then released them. It was all in the past.

Taking a deep breath, Tony headed towards the big conference room to meet with the CEO of the newly minted Fenrir Defense Corporation. Apparently, there had been some sort of internal power struggle a few months past, leaving them with an entirely new leadership, but Tony didn't really care about any of that. So long as they could do their job well, he just wanted to meet with the man so that he could say he had and then Pepper could draw up the files. He'd sign whatever she put in front of him, and they both knew it.

He flung open the doors with all his normal aplomb, but his greeting died on his lips instantaneously when he saw the singular occupant of the massive room. The sound of the door clicking shut seemed strangely ominous in the sudden silence.

Dressed in a black on black suit, holding a golden cane, and looking far more attractive than he had any right to, was Loki, standing at the other end of the conference room looking out at the view of the New York skyline. "Hello, Stark," he said quietly, voice just as soft and soothing as he remembered.

The six months had given Tony a lot of perspective, but as he looked at the tall, pale psychopath who had risked his life for Tony's own freedom, he couldn't help but feel a turmoil of emotions begin to boil under the surface of his skin- emotions that he didn't want to deal with at the moment.

"Loki," Tony said, surprised at the levelness of his own voice. "You're in New York now."

The spy inclined his head. "I am."

"And running your own company."

The hint of a smile tugged at his pale lips. "I am. Took an old friend's advice."

Tony couldn't help but breathe a bitter laugh at that. "An old friend? Is that what I am now?"

The smile fell from Loki's face instantly. "I don't know," he admitted. "I did save your life."

"After you helped put it in danger in the first place!" Tony snapped.

"The contract was out whether I wished it or not!" Loki rebounded before suddenly taking a deep breath. "Forgive me. I didn't come here to fight with you."

"Why did you come here, Loki?" Tony asked, weary and just wanting to have a single goddamn conversation with the spy that made fucking sense.

"It occurred to me," Loki began, "somewhere along the line, that I never actually apologized in person." He remained silent for a moment before looking right into Tony's eyes. "I'm sorry, Anthony. I'm sorry that I betrayed you; sorry that I left you; and I'm sorry... Sorry that I can't be what you wanted me to be."

The really shitty thing was, Tony was pretty sure he meant it. The inventor heaved a deep sigh. "You still don't get it, Lokes," he said quietly. "I only wanted you as you are."

There was a moment of silence.

"Then I'm sorry I couldn't see that," Loki amended, very quiet. "I... couldn't see how that was possible," he admitted.

"You're not heartless," Tony told him firmly.

Loki gave him a wry smile. "No?"

"No. Whatever that bastard who raised you may have said."

Loki looked down for a beat. "That's not the only reason I'm here," he announced after a moment.

Tony arched an eyebrow. "No?"

"I'm also here to officially offer the protection services of the Fenrir Defense Corporation."

Tony smirked. "You really are the CEO, huh? How'd you pull that one off?"

Loki laughed softly. "Spy, remember?"

Tony shook his head fondly. "So you're serious? You want the job? You realize you'd have to work for me."

"With you," Loki corrected, eyes gleaming. "I'm sure Ms. Potts and I will be able to work out the details."

Tony blinked. "Who says I'm going to hire you?"

Loki put on an innocent expression. "Who better to protect you than the man who's already saved your life twice? Not to mention the one who took down your archnemesis," Loki added with a smirk.

Tony tried to fight the smile, but he didn't try very hard. "You want to work together." His tone was flat, not disbelieving, not hopeful, nor any of the other emotions that were vying for dominance in his mind.

"Yes," Loki responded softly, "I do. I... miss your company, Stark. And I'd like to get to know you better. Again."

Tony chuckled wryly at that. "I miss you too," he admitted, "but there's a lot of bridges to mend between us."

"Then perhaps we take them one at a time?" Loki offered, and, yeah, that actually was hope in his voice

Goddammit.

"Maybe we do," Tony agreed. "You really want to do it in a professional relationship though?"

"Anthony, if you honestly think I'm going to let anyone else protect you, you must be out of your mind," Loki finally said, somewhat exasperated. "If I do, in fact, have a heart, it most certainly belongs to you, and I'm not going to let anyone else be in charge of keeping it safe."

Tony stared for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Only you could make a declaration of love sound narcissistic," he wheezed.

Loki froze for a heartbeat before relaxing into a smile of his own. "And only you could find such a thing attractive."

Tony shrugged, not denying it. "What can I say? Apparently, psychopaths are my type."


End file.
